If Things Had Been Different
by TwilightsMuse
Summary: Complete! Sixth Year. Julius DeVere, hidden son of Severus Snape enrolls at Hogwarts. After fifteen years of no contact, what can this stranger of a boy teach his father?
1. The New Kid

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story and the universe in which they exist is sole property of J K Rowling. This fic is only created to keep its author amused and she receives no profit from its publication._  
  
**Chapter 1 – The New Kid**  
  
A lone figure sat in silence within a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, watching with dark, fathomless eyes the nearby trees racing the slower moving hills in the distance. He was reminded of his own country whose hills would be covered in thick vines with ripening grapes and his lips turned up slightly at the corners at the memory. It was his first trip alone outside of France and though he was nervous at the thought of going to a new school, leaving all of his friends at Beaux Batons behind, he couldn't deny the excitement of a new beginning. He had always felt some odd affinity with the island across the channel and was happy when his mother finally relented, allowing him to complete his education abroad. He was going to Hogwarts, the best school in the wizarding world and winner of the Tri-Wizard Tournament just two years ago.  
  
The sleek feathered raven in the cage over his head squawked once, titling its head sideways to peer at its master, with its beady, yellow eyes, fluttering its wings in impatience. "I know, Renoir," the new student spoke softly, reaching up his right hand to brush his fingers against the cage, allowing the bird to grasp them with its beak, "I'll let you out soon, I promise."  
  
He glanced toward the compartment door, startled, as it opened and a girl a few years younger peered in, "Sorry," she said, pink faced, "I didn't realize this one was taken."  
  
"Mad--" But before he could tell her that she could join him, she had slid the door closed amidst a flurry of girlish giggles in the corridor. When the door opened once more, he looked up to find a different student of his own age, with what appeared to be two of her friends behind her.  
  
"Sorry, but could we sit here? Everywhere else is full."  
  
He nodded amiably, and gestured for them to come in, offering a small smile to the wavy-haired girl and her companions.  
  
"You're new here, aren't you? I haven't seen you before," the girl noted as she placed her belongings into the storage compartment. As she sat, she introduced herself, "I'm Hermione Granger and these are my friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."  
  
"Julius DeVere, "the new student replied, extending his hand to Hermione, Ron, and Harry in turn. When he reached Harry, he asked the bespeckled boy with curiosity, "you're not, _the_ Harry Potter, are you?" a bit surprised at hearing the name, his swarthy gaze automatically lifting with interest to search for the scar.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, a bit shy, and lifted a hand to brush his disheveled black hair to conceal his forehead, not really comfortable showing his scar off.  
  
"You're from France?" Hermione queried, changing the subject, seeing Harry's discomfort and noting Julius's accent. "Did you go to Beaux Batons?"  
  
"Yes to both," he replied, nodding with a smile, "but I will finish my education at Hogwarts. Tell me; is it true that it is haunted?"  
  
The red-headed boy, Ron, laughed at his question, "Yeah, but most of the ghosts aren't too bad. It's Peeves you've got to look out for. Bloody pest, that one."  
  
The hours seemed to pass by quickly as Julius acquainted himself with his compartment mates, and as the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, they all reached for their belongings and shuffled out into the crowded corridor. The cool night breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees as the crowded platform organized itself into small groups toward the carriages that would bring the students up to Hogwarts Castle.  
  
"Come on, Julius," Hermione called to the new dark-haired student, clasping his hand in her own. "You can ride with us."  
  
The warmth of her hand enveloped the coolness of Julius's own, and he smiled, thinking that the transition to his new school might not be as hard as he originally thought. Following Hermione, Harry and Ron, they found an unoccupied carriage and settled their things for the last leg of their journey.  
  
Entering the expansive foyer about fifteen minutes later and placing their luggage against the wall, they were greeted by Professor McGonagall, standing near the doors to the Great Hall in her customary green robes, awaiting her most recent batch of first-years. She smiled warmly at her returning Gryffindors and as her gaze drifted to the unfamiliar student beside them, she nodded. "Mr. DeVere, I presume. Welcome to Hogwarts." Turning her eyes back to Hermione, Ron and Harry, she said," into the Hall, you three, the sorting will begin shortly. Mr. DeVere, if you would please stay with me, you will need to be sorted into your new house as well."  
  
Hermione smiled with encouragement, "It isn't that bad, really. Perhaps we will see you later."  
  
"Good Luck," Harry stated as he smiled before stepping through the doors into the Hall.  
  
"Just hope you're not in Slytherin," Ron added with a wink as he followed his friends. "Then I would have to hate you, mate."  
  
Julius smiled and waved to the three Gryffindors, though his stomach churned in its deepest pits. He hadn't given it much thought really, which house he would belong to. He hoped he would end up with a good bunch.  
  
As the first-years made their way toward the doors to the Great Hall, he felt out of place. They all seemed so young (had he ever been that short?). He felt like Gulliver amongst the tiny Lilliputians.  
  
McGonagall finished giving instructions on the sorting and the large oak doors to the Great Hall swung open silently upon their well-turned hinges. Julius was nearly floored by the grandeur of the cavernous room, and found himself goggling like the rest of the first-years at the ceiling above, as they were guided like sheep down between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Only at Hogwarts could a student expect to see the moon casting its silvery light down upon their heads from the rafters of the roof, gliding between nebulous clouds. The staff table loomed as they approached the dais, a lone stool with a dusty, battered hat sitting a few feet in front of the line of professors.  
  
As they gathered before the chair, shuffling , unnerved from all eyes watching them, Professor McGonagall began, "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool, place the sorting hat upon your head and learn to which house you have been assigned. Your house will become your family for the rest of your stay at this school." Adjusting her square-rimmed glasses, she peered down to the list and called the first name.  
  
Julius used this time to steal glances at the students at the four tables that ran the length of the Hall. Hermione, Harry and Ron were all seated at the table at his far right, cheering for the latest addition to their fold: a thin blond girl named Amanda Pierce. They must be Gryffindors, he thought quietly, for that was the name that the hat announced. His dark eyes traveled to the table to his far left where a surly lot jeered the young girl, making some rather rude gestures. A frown slid along his lips as he realised that it was the Slytherin table and understood now why Ron would hate him if he was chosen for that lot. He didn't care much for them either at first glance.  
  
The sorting of the first-years was completed quite quickly and McGonagall gestured for Julius to stand beside her. "I would like to introduce a new student who is joining us from Beaux Baton Academy in France, Mr. Julius DeVere."  
  
At the sound of the name a bit of a mishap occurred as one of the professors spilt coffee on his long black robes. With haste the man with inky, black hair and a hooked nose mopped up what he could with his ebony wand, muttering a curse to himself and motioning for McGonagall to continue with a deep scowl.  
  
McGonagall raised her brows in amusement at her colleague and turned back to the assembly of students, clearing her throat. "Mr. DeVere is a sixth year student and will be completing the last two years of his education here at Hogwarts. Please make him welcome." The stern deputy headmistress gestured for him to sit on the stool and placed the tattered hat upon his head, looking over his shoulder to shoot a glare at Professor Snape.  
  
Julius felt like a fly under a microscope as the hat muttered inside his head, picking apart his talents and personality. The students at all four tables were craning their heads over each other, watching him as well, wondering which house he would be allotted to and what kind of person he was. But nowhere did he feel more watched than from behind him, a prickling sensation coursing up his spine, which he fought off as best he could.  
  
Severus Snape watched the boy before him with undisguised interest, his murky eyes boring into the back of the boy's head as he rubbed his leg where the spilt coffee burned, his temper smoldering.  
  
"Ravenclaw!" the hat exclaimed. A cheer rose from the table to his closest left and Julius rose to greet his new housemates. Harry, Ron and Hermione were applauding as well, smiles on their faces as he turned to look at them, so he figured that meant they could still be friends. He was surprised at the welcome he received and was quickly engulfed in conversation with his new family.  
  
"Aren't you the popular one," said Bradley, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, nodding towards the Hufflepuff table behind Julius. The new sixth- year turned with a measured nonchalance in the direction Bradley noted and his eyes met a group of fourth-years who suddenly blushed and giggled, caught staring. Giving them a bright smile which only encouraged them further, he turned back towards his own table to find the others rolling their eyes in mirth.  
  
"We'll have to start calling you Casanova," chimed Anthony Goldstein to the laughter of his friends as he chose a pork chop from a plate, reaching in front of Bradley.  
  
"Say, you don't play Quidditch, do you DeVere?" Bradley queried, playfully pushing Goldstein away and looking with hope to his new housemate. "We lost Roger Davies, our old Captain to graduation and could use a new Chaser."  
  
"I used to play for my old school," Julius replied, excited that he might be able to continue on with the sport, "I'd love to give it a go."  
  
"Great!" Bradley smiled. "Tryouts are this Friday at 5pm sharp. Make sure you're there."  
  
"I will be," Julius returned, and allowed his dark-eyed gaze to travel up once more to the head table. He noticed another swarthy gaze that had been aimed at him moved away immediately, its owner turning to speak to a professor of short stature and white balding hair. Leaning towards Michael Corner, he asked, "who is that professor, the one at the end on the left, talking to the short one?"  
  
"Ah, DeVere, my boy. Meet Professor Snape, our illustrious Potions Master. Doubt you'll ever find anyone nastier in your life than he."  
  
"That's for sure," added Goldstein, between mouthfuls. "Can you believe he gave me detention once just for saying 'Good Morning'?"  
  
"Yeah, and he'll take points off your house for just breathing in the wrong direction," said Bradley. "Watch out for him. Best just to keep to yourself, not speak unless you're spoken to and all that rot."  
  
"I'll have to remember that," Julius replied, his attention once more upon the dark-haired man, only to find him yet again looking his way. Snape's eyes did not move this time, however, and merely answered Julius's glance with a glare and scowl."  
  
"These guys aren't giving you any trouble, are they?" said a voice from behind the new Ravenclaw.  
  
Turning to look about, Julius smiled and was about to say 'hello' when one of his table-mates called, "Well, look who it is, the infamous Gryffindor trio. Come to surrender the Quidditch Cup already, Harry, Ron?"  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, smirking, and sat down in an empty spot at the table next to Julius. "Not without a fight, Bradley; we expect another winning year. Guess you're looking for someone to replace Davies, huh?" asked Harry.  
  
"Yeah, but we have some great prospects. Seems your friend DeVere here was a seasoned player from Beaux Baton's," Bradley announced, gesturing to Julius.  
  
"You play?" asked Ron, with wide eyes. "Cool!"  
  
"We'll have to come watch you try out!" Hermione exclaimed with a heartening smile.  
  
"You may have to fight for seats in the stands," remarked Goldstein, "Casanova here already seems to have a fan club."  
  
They all laughed and talked until the feast drew to its end nearly an hour later when Ron and Hermione excused themselves to escort the first years to Gryffindor Tower. Harry said his good-byes shortly after, leaving Julius to be shown to his quarters by his housemates. All in all, Julius was happy he had come.  
  
A knock sounded upon the large, ornately carved door to Professor Dumbledore's office early the next morning and before the headmaster could say 'Enter', the tall dark figure of Professor Snape strode within, his shadowy robes swirling about him like a black tornado. The Potions Master's mood had not improved from the previous night and as he moved towards Dumbledore's desk, the headmaster could see the anger reflected in his eyes. "Now Severus..." the older man began, only to be cut off by the younger.  
  
"Why wasn't I told?" Snape stormed at his superior, forgetting his usual deference towards the headmaster, his fists clenching at his sides as he paced in irritation. Long articulate fingers combed through the greasy- looking strands of his hair as he finally sat heavily into a chair, his customary cool collectedness thrown by the wayside. "Why is he here?"  
  
"Severus, if you will just... "  
  
"I sent them away," Snape continued on, his voice trembling with fury, his right elbow propped against the armrest, his hand covering his eyes, "to be safe; to be away from me." With a look of disgust upon his ashen features, he added almost as a whisper," away from what I am... and what I do."  
  
"What you were... and did," replied Dumbledore, his blue eyes casting a gaze of consolation towards potions professor.  
  
"What I am, "dark eyes glared with menacing finality towards the old man behind the desk as Snape's hand dropped to his lap. "My master may have changed, but I have not. Why is he here?"  
  
The headmaster rose from his chair behind the desk and made his way around towards the other side, sitting in the twin of the one Snape currently occupied. "With Voldemort at large once more, "Dumbledore began, "Alessandre thought it best that he come to Hogwarts. She thought he would be safer..."  
  
"Safer..." Severus muttered to himself, shaking his head in dismay. "Sending him into this hotbed of hatred-- "  
  
"Alessandre," Dumbledore intoned, looking down at his aged hands crossed in his lap, "your wife, is dying, Severus." The old man let his blue eyes lift to the fathomless dark pools of his colleague.  
  
"Dying... "Snape was too shocked to say anything else, his ashen face that usually hid his emotions so well, betraying him with his concern.  
  
"She had no one else to entrust him to, Severus. You can see why now, she thought it best to send him here. He does not know that you--"  
  
"That I am his father?" Snape finished, his anger slowly subsiding to be replaced tiredness, acceptance of the circumstances, and concern. "It is far better for him that he not know. The Dark Lord is not aware that I have a living son, and if he did... " He sighed then, saying more to himself than anyone else, "I haven't seen my son in fifteen years. Julius was just over a year when the Potters were killed and I sent them to France. He is a stranger to me in all but blood."  
  
"I know it has been and will be difficult for you, Severus," the headmaster confided, his fingers steepled before his lips. "He cannot be treated any differently than the rest of the students."  
  
"I will not treat him differently," the potions master replied. As dark eyes glazed over with memories of his own days at Hogwarts, he added, "I just hope that the other students won't." 


	2. Points and Potions

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story and the universe in which they exist is the sole property of J. K. Rowling. The author receives no profit from this story's creation or publication._  
  
**Chapter 2 - Points and Potions**  
  
The next morning at breakfast Julius sat with his Gryffindor friends as Professor McGonagall passed out class schedules. It turned out that both he and Hermione shared many of the same interests and had several classes together. In fact, for their first class, N.E.W.T. level Potions, they decided they would sit together as lab partners. All four houses participated in the same sixth-year class instead of just two, as Professor Snape only excepted those who received 'Outstanding' on their Potions O.W.L. and there weren't many of those.  
  
"Can't tell you how glad I am that I don't have to spend another year with that git," Ron added, buttering another piece of toast. "Now if only I didn't have to run into him in the hallway, my life would be perfect."  
  
"I definitely won't miss Snape," Harry joined in, looking a bit forlorn, "but according to McGonagall during our career advice session last year, I need to study Potions if I want to become an Auror. I only scraped 'Acceptable', not good enough to continue in Snape's class. I need to get at least 'Exceeds Expectations' for N.E.W.T. What am I going to do?"  
  
Ron shrugged, giving Harry a sympathetic look. "Find another career?"  
  
Harry, Hermione and Julius stared at Ron in exasperation  
  
"What?" Ron queried, his brow furrowed.  
  
Julius thought quietly to himself for a moment, and brightened. "Well, Hermione and I are taking Potions; why don't we tutor you ourselves."  
  
"That's a great idea, Julius," Hermione replied, smiling, looking from the Ravenclaw to Harry. "Perhaps Professor McGonagall will allow us to use her classroom."  
  
"She did say she would do anything to help me become an Auror," Harry answered, hope stirring within him before his next thought deflated it. "Of course, that was in front of that Umbridge woman."  
  
"We could talk to her after Transfiguration," Hermione replied, ignoring his last comment. "The worst she can say is no, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Harry shrugged. Glancing towards the clock at the end of the expansive hall, he announced, "Guess we better get to class. Ready Ron?" Harry and Ron both had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid for first period and were looking forward to seeing their oversized friend, though neither seemed enthusiastic to find out what the newest dangerous critter he would have them study was. As both rose from the table to begin their trek down to Hagrid's hut, Harry called back, "see you in Transfiguration, Hermione. Good luck today, Julius."  
  
"Yeah, good luck," Ron added before stepping out the door. "You're gonna need it with Snape."  
  
"I keep hearing the worst stories about Professor Snape," Julius remarked as he got up from the table, and walked to the door with Hermione. "Is he really as bad as they say? Giving out detentions at the drop of a hat and such?"  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something diplomatic, but quickly closed it again when she couldn't come up with anything nice to say. "Maybe not quite that bad," she tried, not sounding completely confident in her reply.   
  
They made their way down several flights of cold stone stairs to the dimly lit dungeon halls below. A cue had already formed outside of the locked classroom, and judging by those already present, Hermione was going to be the only Gryffindor in the class. Malfoy was there, of course, standing along side of Pansy Parkinson who was apparently laughing at a comment Draco made just seconds earlier. Like Harry and Ron, Malfoy's two toadies, Crabbe and Goyle apparently didn't make the grades to continue. Within a few moments, the door to the dank and dingy Potions room opened of its own accord and the students filed in to take their seats. Julius and Hermione claimed the table right in front of Snape's desk and prepared their cauldrons.  
  
The door slammed behind them (making several students jump) as Professor Snape strode boldly into the classroom from the hallway, black robes billowing behind him, his deep nebulous eyes taking in the dozen students seated before him. An impish smirk creeped along his thin pale lips as he rounded towards his desk, seeing that at last his dream had come true. No Potter. But the smirk was short-lived as his swarthy gaze settled for the briefest of moments upon Julius. He recovered quickly, however, extracting his wand from a pocket and pointing it towards the board, whispering, "Escribus Mandatum." A list of ingredients and instructions appeared on the black surface written in spidery handwriting.  
  
"On the board are the instructions for preparing a Mental Agility potion. As you have all obviously obtained the necessary requirement to be in this class," he muttered darkly, glancing at each of them in turn, "I assume I will not need to baby-sit your progress. You have thirty minutes." Finished speaking, he turned and strode around his desk, sinking onto his chair, his attention applied to several essays scattered upon the surface.  
  
"What's the matter, Mudblood," whispered a voice from across the room a few minutes later, loud enough for the first two rows to hear, "couldn't find anyone of your own house to play with? Not good enough for you, are they?" The group of Slytherins chuckled at Malfoy's comments, encouraging him. "Oh, that's right, they're Gryffindors, all bravery and no brains."  
  
Hermione reddened in the face, but kept her mouth closed, knowing better than to retort in the Slytherin House Head's classroom. Julius, on the other hand, did not yet know how things worked in Snape's class, and before Hermione could stop him, he blurted out, "shut your mouth, Malfoy. She has more brains in her little finger than you have--."  
  
"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. DeVere," Snape growled, "for disrupting this class. I trust I will not have to remind you to keep your own mouth shut in the future," he added silkily.  
  
"But sir--" the new student, continued, shocked, about to gesture towards Malfoy.  
  
"That's another ten points, Mr. DeVere, and if I hear another peep out of you it will be detention!" Snape bellowed. "Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes sir, " Julius muttered through clenched teeth, his own face turning red, and moved his attention to his Runespoor eggs, mincing them with gusto.  
  
Hermione met up with Harry and Ron the next period for Transfiguration. Taking the seat between the two, she allowed her book bag to slump under her chair. She was still pink in the face, infuriated with Malfoy and her Potions professor.  
  
"So how did it go?" Ron asked curiously.  
  
"Oh Ron, it was positively awful. I felt so bad…" Hermione whispered as Professor McGonagall passed out guinea pigs to her students. "Professor Snape took off twenty points from Ravenclaw within the first twenty minutes. All because Julius stood up for me."  
  
"Against who?" Harry asked, petting his guinea pig, half watching and listening to McGonagall showing them how to transfigure the guinea pig into a working table lamp.  
  
Hermione tilted her head to the side, giving him a knowing look. "Who do you think?"  
  
"Malfoy," Harry and Ron answered in unison.  
  
"And then to make things worse, Snape makes some snide remarks about our potion." Hermione cast looks at both of her friends in turn. "Of course there was nothing wrong with it. It was perfect actually, and a hell of a lot better than what Malfoy came up with. But I could tell it made Julius uncomfortable."  
  
Transfiguration went fairly well, with Hermione the first (as always) to correctly transfigure her guinea pig into a rather fine, antique, brass lamp with golden coloured beads around the shade. Harry came quite close, though his lamp tried to scamper off the desk, and he had to catch it before it fell onto the floor. Ron on the other hand seemed to be having some problems, as his guinea pig merely flickered as if it had eaten a strobe light, and was assigned extra homework to practice for next time. As class came to an end and the students made their way back out into the halls, Hermione and Harry approached Professor McGonagall as she put the last of the guinea pigs into their cages.   
  
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione began. "I was… that is… we…"  
  
"Out with it, Miss Granger," interrupted the Gryffindor Head with a slight smile.  
  
"We were wondering if we could borrow your classroom… to tutor Harry in Potions," blurted Hermione, "since he can't take Professor Snape's class."  
  
McGonagall arched a brow at her student as she moved behind her desk and sat down, "and who would be doing the tutoring?"  
  
"Julius DeVere and myself," Hermione answered, her soft brown eyes pleading.  
  
Professor McGonagall thought a moment to herself, allowing her gaze to drift over towards Harry and meeting his eyes. She answered, "well, we always encourage students to take extra interest in their studies, but I'm afraid that Potions should be done in the Potions classroom, which is better equipped to handle any… potential disasters."  
  
At those words, both Harry and Hermione looked at each other knowing they couldn't go to Snape to ask for use of his classroom because of his obvious hatred of Harry. Their expression did not go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall, and the teacher added, "I will speak to Professor Snape to see if arrangements can be made for you to use the room, but I cannot make any promises, Potter."  
  
"Oh thank you, Professor," Hermione beamed.  
  
"Yes, thank you," Harry added.  
  
After dinner that night, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Julius met in the courtyard to go over the days events and discuss future plans. They were not unnoticed however, for a pair of shadowy eyes watched them silently from a window above the square, remarking on how this group reminded him of one from his own youth: James, Lily, Remus… and Sirius.   
  
_A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews I have received, they mean a lot! I know this chapter is a bit shorter than the other, but I wanted to get something else out there. I hope to update at least once a week._


	3. Memories

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. I am just playing with her toys. Don't worry, I'll clean up after I am finished._  
  
**Chapter 3 - Memories  
**  
The fire flickered warmly in the fireplace, the bright orange and red tongues licking hungrily at the oak on which it feasted, casting dancing shadows upon the walls of Severus Snape's study. He sat slumped in one of the armchairs in his bathrobe, lazily turning a nearly empty tumbler of double malt scotch with his left hand, watching the bright bursts of light that shimmered as the flames reflected through the crystal. He had been up half the night already, unable to sleep, and when the clock on his wall struck three, he groaned inwardly, knowing he would be exhausted in the morning. Turning towards his left, he contemplated the half-filled decanter upon the table, his lightless eyes moving between it and his nearly empty glass, oh so tempted to pour himself another drink. But he restrained himself, knowing full well that Albus Dumbledore would be none too pleased if he showed up for his morning class besotted with alcohol.  
  
Rising unsteadily from his chair, he carefully strode towards the rear of his desk, where his long, agile fingers pulled open a drawer and extracted an old picture frame. Snape stared at the photo for a few seconds, running his thumb over a portion of the subject, before returning to his chair by the fire, and setting it upon the table at its side, in front of the decanter. He watched it longingly in silence as a younger version of himself, smiling (how long had it been since he last did that?), turned to plant a kiss upon his new bride.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you were ill, Alessandre?" he asked the framed photo, whispering to his past. He closed his eyes slowly, remembering the his last words to her, and sighed, shaking his head. "I never wanted it to end that way. I had no choice."  
  
"He resembles you, you know," Snape continued, thinking of his son (was that pride he felt?). "He has my eyes, my hair, my height, perhaps, but the rest belongs to you. Definitely your nose," he added, frowning; he had always disliked his own. "It hurts to look at him, because I see so much of you in him. He has some of those same expressions you used to make, when you thought I was being unreasonable, or making more of something than it was."  
  
"He seems a bright boy, just as bright as that insufferable Gryffindor know-it-all he chooses to hang out with. The only fault I can find in him is just _that_, his choice of friends, Alessandre. Consorting with… Potter, "he blurted the name with disdain, "is only going to end him up in trouble. I need to put a stop in it before it goes too far. _You_ know what his father was like. You remember how they use to treat…" he winced at the memories that flooded through his mind. Quietly, with a note of sorrow, his throat constricted, he added, "I just don't want him to end up on the wrong side of a jinx, upside down with his underwear showing."  
  
He closed his eyes once more, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. _How do I influence his relationships without revealing my relationship to him? What authority can I possibly have over his life without putting him in peril?  
  
_As he pondered this dilemma, the clock on the wall struck four. He really needed to get some sleep or else he was going to be absolutely useless in class, regardless of how much alcohol he consumed.   
  
With a flick of his wand, he dowsed the fire, and lumbered towards his bedroom. Pulling the covers up to his waist, he closed his eyes, hoping for a few hours of restless sleep. What he received, however, were nightmarish dreams of that dark, rainy night that changed his life forever.  
  
_The rear door of the ancestral Snape Manor burst open revealing the tall dark frame of its owner surrounded by a rain-soaked cloak undulating wildly in the wind. His raven black hair was drenched, hanging limp around his face, dripping onto his sopping clothes as he stumbled within, gasping for breath, clutching a stitch in his side as if he had run the whole way up the hill from the road.   
  
"Alessandre!" he cried, bounding into the main downstairs hall and towards the stairs. "Alessandre!" Lightening flickered through the still open door followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder as the rain poured relentlessly outside. Not receiving an answer, his stomach plummeted as he climbed the many stairs to the next level, "Alessandre!" he cried, competing with the roaring rain storm outside, but still no answer came. He trembled inwardly as he strode down the hall, horrified at what he might find. Had the Dark Lord gotten to them already? Severus paused outside the nursery as he prepared himself for the worst. Thrusting open the door, a brief wave of relief flooded him as he found his wife sitting contentedly in an antique rocking chair, crooning softly to their sleeping son, both apparently unharmed.   
  
Alessandre Snape stood quickly, surprised by her husband's sudden, unexpected entrance and ragged appearance. Those shadowy eyes that could be either cold as night when he was angry or warm as anyone could wish for when he told her he loved her, were now overflowing with outright anxiety and fear.  
  
"We have to go," he said hurriedly with a tone of voice that said not to ask questions, nearly unhinged in his urgency. He grabbed her arm as she began to cross the room to pack the baby's things and shoved his wife instead towards the nursery door. "There is no time! We must go now!"  
  
Alessandre had never seen Severus behave in such a manner. He was always so composed and self-assured; to see him like this only increased her fear. "Severus, what is going on?"  
  
"No questions, " he muttered, hurrying her down the flight of stairs, reaching into his robes and pulling out another cloak. He tossed the invisibility cloak over himself and his family, covering them from head to toe as he steered them towards the rear of the house and out the door. He dared not have them apparate; the resounding noise it made might draw unwanted attention. Down the hillside he conducted his charges, and through a narrow strip of woodland that bordered his property, the undergrowth snagging at the cloak as they made their way towards the dark road. A lone carriage stood silently just off the thoroughfare in the dark shadows of the tree line, waiting.   
  
Severus Snape paused at the wood's edge, and allowed himself a moment to look one last time at his wife and child, his dark eyes unreadable in the moonless night. He lifted a hand slowly, to tenderly touch the soft black hair of his son's head, and raised his gaze once more to meet Alessandre's own. Severus opened his mouth to say something, and quickly closed it again, unable trust his voice to calmly utter the words he loathed to speak. "You have to go, you have to leave the country…" he finally managed.  
  
"Severus…" Alessandre whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks."  
  
"Listen to me, " he continued, leaning forward to rest his rain-soaked brow against hers and lifting his right hand to brush over her lips with his thumb, his voice choked with emotion. "The Dark Lord…he…you must go, Alessandre. You must change your name… use your godmother's… DeVere, they won't recognize it." Gods, how could it have come to this. His heart ached as each word spilled tremulously from his lips. "You must never contact me."   
  
She was quietly sobbing now, her shoulders shuddering as she leaned against him. Severus wrapped his arms affectionately - desperately - about her waist, pulling both his wife and son close, pressing his lips to Alessandre's temple, his own throat choked so badly he couldn't speak above a whisper. "You must forget about me," he rasped into her ear, his nebulous eyes clenched tightly shut, trying fiercely to hold himself together.  
  
Having spent as much time as he dared with his family, Severus reluctantly let go of them, and began to lift the invisibility cloak away from him. "Go now," he muttered, his eyes cast downward, unable to torture himself any longer. "The carriage is waiting. You can trust the driver."  
  
Alessandre made to grab his arm, but he pulled away, leaving the relative safety of the cloak and took several clumsy steps beyond their reach, deeper into the woods. He couldn't see them, but within a short time the carriage door opened as if by itself, then closed once more, starting off into the black starless night.  
  
Severus watched it go until it disappeared around a bend, then turned to make his way through the woods to come around to the front of the manor. He was halfway up the hill when the first flames began to dance in the windows, their flickering light casting an ever-changing kaleidoscope of shadowy shapes upon the ground before him. He ran the rest of the way, and dropped to his knees before one of the glass panes, the emptiness inside overwhelming him at last.   
  
Within the window he could glimpse a portrait that had been completed shortly after the birth of his son, Julius, the various colors of paint melting and running down the length of the canvas. The flames licked at the base of what once was an image of himself and his family, curling the corners as they hungrily feasted, until naught was left but charred, crumbling ash.  
  
He openly wept then, his hands grasping his ebony hair as he leaned forward, elbows upon his knees, as he sobbed. For those watching, he seemed a man grieving over the death of his loved ones, but in truth, it was not they, but Severus Snape's heart that died that day._


	4. Quidditch Tryouts

_Disclaimer: same as previous_

**Chapter 4 - Quidditch Tryouts**  
  
"You want me to what?" Snape sharply shot back at his colleague, rather annoyed as she cornered him after a class of first year dunderheads. His head ached, and just as he had expected, he was exhausted from a night of little sleep and bad dreams.  
  
"Severus, surely you would not inhibit a student from learning," McGonagall retorted, astonished at his response.   
  
"Minerva, certainly you would not expect me to give special treatment to an inferior student. What would the point then be of restricting my class to only the best?" he answered, adding, "if I give it to Mr. Potter, then I would have to give it to all." That was all he needed. He had just gotten rid of the thorn in his side, and now Minerva wanted him to allow Potter to hang around his classroom 'to learn'. Right, steal from his stores to cause trouble more like.  
  
"But think of the future, Severus," the deputy headmistress continued, "you know as well as I that having Mr. Potter as an Auror would greatly benefit wizarding society. Few, after all, know the ways of… of…"  
  
"The Dark Lord," Snape supplied flatly, frowning, his arms crossed imposingly before him in that customary manner of his.  
  
McGonagall frowned, her thin lips even thinner than usual at his interruption and mention of the title, "yes, _him_, more intimately than Mr. Potter."  
  
"Well, if he is such the asset you claim him to be, perhaps he should have been more attentive to his classwork and less concerned about his bloody Quidditch practices," Snape returned, bending forward slightly to pick up the crate of potion samples from his last class. "Who is going to tutor him, Miss Granger, I presume?" _It would be just like her,_ he thought, _the 'Little Miss Know-it-all'.  
_  
"Miss Granger, and the new Ravenclaw student, Mr. DeVere," Professor McGonagall replied.  
  
"Mr. DeVere," Severus said quietly, his mind racing.  
  
Mistaking his pause for unfamiliarity with the name, she supplied, "Mr. DeVere, black hair, dark eyes…"  
  
"Yes, I know who he is, Minerva," Snape snapped, "I was just thinking a moment to myself; I believe I am entitled." He huffed at the annoying woman and contemplated this bit of information. If he allowed Potter and Miss Granger to use the room, he would be able to keep a closer eye on his son, and possibly influence him as a… mentor of sorts.  
  
Turning a sly fathomless gaze towards Minerva McGonagall, "I will allow it, but there will be some strict rules to be followed. I will discuss them and a schedule with Miss Granger and Mr. DeVere at the end of the week."  
  
"Thank you, Severus," McGonagall replied, and strode from the Potions room out into the hall.  
  
The first week of school flew by for Julius. He enjoyed all of his classes so far, well, with one exception, though Professor Snape had been a bit easier on him the last few days. At least he didn't take any more points off for anything. In fact, the Potions Master seemed to pay more attention to Julius's work and often complimented his technique. He was a bit confused by this sudden change in his professor's demeanor, and Hermione seemed rather shocked as well, but he just shrugged it off, figuring maybe the professor wasn't so bad after all.   
  
As it neared five o'clock on Friday, he met his Gryffindor friends in the main hall and they made their way together down to the Quidditch pitch for the Ravenclaw tryouts. The stadium was quite grand, Julius thought as he peered up at the tall towering stands, their banners whipping lightly in the autumn breeze.   
  
"Looks like you'll have good weather, at least," noted Harry, as he increased his gait to come along side of Julius. "McCabe, the Keeper, likes to stray to the right, so you might have a better chance of scoring if you go for the left hoop," he offered.  
  
"And keep your eyes out for the bludgers," Ron added, "Masters and Morgan are wickedly accurate and they'll put your lights out if you're not careful."  
  
"Thanks guys," Julius smiled, waving to all three as he parted their company, making his way towards the small group of students milling about the base of the hoop poles.  
  
"Good Luck, Julius!" Hermione called after him as she headed for the stairs to the stands. "You'll be great, I know it!"  
  
As Julius stepped onto the field, a roar went up from one of the towers, and he lifted his right hand to use it as a visor to block out the glare of the sun as he peered upwards. His cheeks began to burn bright pink as he noticed a group of girls from various houses dressed in Ravenclaw colours, carrying sapphire blue banners with his name on it taking up the seats of a whole tower. His eyes widened, and he offered a very embarrassed wave to them (which only made them cheer louder), before he continued on towards the other contestants, smiling to himself.   
  
"Ah, the King hath arrived," Bradley spoke regally as he proffered a low flamboyant bow. "The tryouts can now begin. Sorry we are all out of red carpets, Your Majesty."  
  
"No pressure, eh DeVere," Harold Morgan grinned, punching his housemate in the shoulder.  
  
"Should I set up the autograph table for after the tryouts?" added Simon Allen, one of the team Chasers, chuckling to himself as he watched the ruckus from above. "Never seen anything like it."  
  
Julius just blushed, he expected a few of the giggling bunch from the start of term feast, but this was unbelievable. He smiled abashedly towards the others who were there to try out for the house team, feeling like he just wanted to crawl into a corner.  
  
"You got a broom there, DeVere?" Bradley questioned.  
  
"No, I always just used a school broom back home." he replied, shrugging.  
  
Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the lower stands, giggling to themselves about the girls in the tower when Hermione stopped short with a sharp intake of breath. "Look!" she exclaimed, pointing to the stairwell as Snape appeared at the bottom of the platform, taking a seat several rows beneath them.  
  
"What's he doing here?" Ron inquired, shocked to see the Potions professor at the pitch. "I've never seen him show up for tryouts before."  
  
"Neither have I," added Harry, curious.  
  
Snape found a seat on the lowest level of the stands and sat quietly, wrapping his flowing robes about him as his dark eyes travelled over towards the students preparing for their tryout. They were queuing up against the wall behind the hoop posts, and it appeared that Julius would be the last to go.  
  
First up was a second-year, Ethan Van Hollen who mounted his broom and took off into the air. The Ravenclaw team was already airborn and had divided itself into two groups. The two Chasers and the prospective third would try to score against the Ravenclaw Keeper and Beaters. Bradley, the team captain, began with the ball and passed it to Allen, who expertly dodged a bludger, twirling horizontally on his broom and passing to Van Hollen, who missed.   
  
Snape smirked slightly, and watched as they tried the setup again only to have Van Hollen fumble it in his fingers before dropping it once more. The next setups didn't work well either, and soon Caitlyn Meadows, another second-year flew in to take Van Hollen's place.   
  
She was alright, he supposed, she made all of her catches, and even scored once, but there was nothing spectacular about her style or ability. One after another the prospective Chasers turn their turn. All in all, he was not impressed with any of them, but now it was Julius's turn, and Snape unconsciously straightened in his seat, watching intently.  
  
As Julius took off into the air, the tower above him roared to life in a flurry of cheering and banner waving. Snape turned, casting his eyes up toward the commotion above him, both of his eyebrows raised, quite shocked at the response, and as his eyes trailed downward once more he noted the three Gryffindors behind him, offering them a menacing scowl before turning back to the field.   
  
"I didn't expect to see _you_ here, Severus," the voice of Albus Dumbledore said from his left, obvious amusement shining in his eyes. Apparently the old man had attained the platform as Snape's attention was elsewhere.   
  
"Headmaster," Snape nodded in greeting, turning his attention back to the pitch. "I am just here to evaluate the Slytherin competition this year."  
  
"Ah, I see," said Dumbledore wryly, a knowing smile upon his lips. "Then why aren't you with your own team?" gesturing towards the rowdy bunch of students in the next tower over who were jeering the Ravenclaw players.   
  
Snape glared at him, mumbling something incoherent under his breath, and Dumbledore sat beside him, chuckling to himself.  
  
Julius, even though using a school broom (which wasn't very good) easily completed each of the tasks, scoring two out of three times, the Banner Brigade (as the three Gryffindors were beginning to call them) cheering loudly with each goal.  
  
"He's pretty good," Ron said to his friends, watching Julius dodge a bludger as well as anyone else on the team.  
  
"He is very good," Harry admitted, knowing full well that if Julius made the tryout, which Harry was sure he would, he would have to play against him. It was not something he was looking forward to after this performance.  
  
Later that night as the four friends met in the courtyard after dinner, Harry, Hermione and Ron congratulated the newest member of the Ravenclaw team and celebrated with a few bottles of butterbeer Ron had pilfered from the kitchen.  
  
"I couldn't have done it without you two," Julius said to Harry and Ron. "Thanks for the advice beforehand, I am sure it made all the difference."   
  
"Don't be thick, Julius," Hermione returned before taking another swig of butterbeer. "You outclassed all the competition with your flying alone."  
  
He blushed at her praise, and awarded her with a dashing smile, "Thanks, 'Mione."  
  
They were interrupted a moment later as Professor McGonagall walked towards them from the castle, concern evident upon her features. "Mr. DeVere," she called to the tall dark-haired boy, "would you please accompany me. The Headmaster wishes to have a word."

_A/N: Big update today. What can I say, I was in a Harry Potter mood, and the weather stunk._

__


	5. Bad News

_Disclaimer: Read the first three._  
  
**Chapter 5 – Bad News  
**  
Saturday morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast, waiting for Julius to come down and fill them in on what happened with Dumbledore. The ceiling above reflected the clear sunny day that was blossoming outside, and Ron and Harry hoped they could talk Julius into practicing some Quidditch moves with them. By nine-thirty, they were beginning to wonder if he would come down at all.  
  
"He's late," Hermione noted, looking at the clock, as she stirred her tea.  
  
"Maybe he is just a late sleeper?" Ron shrugged, glancing at each of his friends.  
  
Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner sauntered into the Great Hall a few moments later, chatting quietly to themselves, making their way towards the Ravenclaw table.  
  
"Hey Goldstein," Ron called, gesturing him to come towards their table, "have you seen Julius yet today?"  
  
Anthony Goldstein was about to answer when Julius stepped quietly into the room, looking quite ragged, as if he had hardly slept. Without looking towards anyone, he made his way to the Ravenclaw table and sat, placing a piece of toast on his plate, just staring at it. Anthony quickly sat at the Gryffindor table and leaned in so that only Harry, Hermione and Ron could hear.  
  
"Julius got some bad news last night," he began, turning to watch his housemate sit with his elbow propped on the table, his hand supporting his head. Turning back to the three Gryffindors, he continued, "Apparently, his mother had been ill, and she... she passed away yesterday afternoon," he finished sympathetically.  
  
"Oh, that's awful," Hermione replied, feeling for her friend. "I know he was close to his mother."  
  
"Yeah, "Goldstein continued. "He was really upset. I don't think he slept at all last night. Corner says he was tossing around quite a bit."  
  
A secondary door behind the staff table opened quietly, and the tall, black- clad form of Professor Snape entered, taking his customary seat at the end of the table. His greasy black hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes were dark empty circles. He didn't look that much better than Julius.  
  
"Since when does Snape eat breakfast?" Harry wondered as he watched the apparently exhausted professor reach towards the coffeepot, pouring himself a cup.  
  
"First I've seen it. What's up with him lately? First Quidditch tryouts, and now this?" Ron added, glancing curiously towards the staff table, and then waving to Goldstein as he left to join his own table.  
  
"He probably was just hungry today," answered Hermione, always giving the benefit of a doubt. Whispering, she continued, "Maybe he was up late doing something for the Order?"  
  
"Maybe," Harry replied, and noting an approaching figure, added," Here comes Julius."  
  
Julius smiled weakly as he sat down with his friends, his eyes red-rimmed, and the skin around them darkened from lack of sleep. Harry and Ron glanced sympathetically towards him, not sure what really to say.  
  
"We heard what happened, Julius," Hermione remarked, making up for their lack of words, and enveloped the Ravenclaw in a warm hug, holding him tightly. "We are so sorry. Is there anything we can do?"  
  
Julius held onto Hermione, thankful for her thoughtfulness and in desperate need of that hug. He closed his eyes tightly trying hard not to break down in front of his friends. "Thanks, "he whispered into the thick locks of her hair, blinking back the tears that he hid beneath his lids as he slowly released her.  
  
Snape watched the Gryffindor table silently, noting the somber camaraderie between his son and his friends. He hadn't slept again that night after Dumbledore told him of his wife's demise, and had drowned his sorrows with nearly the whole of the remaining contents of the whiskey decanter. The alcohol did nothing for his mood, however, and the resulting hangover only made it worse. He wished he could have stayed in bed this morning, but he had promised McGonagall that he would speak to his students about the use of the Potions room. He cursed the Transfiguration professor with each movement as he rose to make his way towards Hermione and Julius, using every ounce of his will to walk upright and not to stumble.  
  
"So what happens now? Do you have someone else that you will stay with?" Harry asked with concern, hoping whoever it would be was better than the Dursleys.  
  
"I'm not sure," Julius replied. "Professor Dumbledore is looking into everything for me."  
  
"You've talked quite a bit about your mother," Hermione commented, her back to the approaching professor, everyone's attention upon Julius. "What about your father?"  
  
Severus Snape paused in mid-step as he heard Miss Granger's question, his throat involuntarily constricting and his heartbeat picking up its pace.  
  
"My father's dead, "Julius replied. "He died shortly after I was born. I never knew him."  
  
Snape relaxed somewhat at Julius's answer, but deep in the pit of his stomach settled something that felt curiously like disappointment. He frowned at himself, and put on once more his cold uncaring mask. "Mr. DeVere, Miss Granger, a word out in the hall," his deep baritone voice muttered darkly, pausing only to offer the remaining Gryffindors a withering look before striding from the hall and out to the corridor beyond.  
  
Hermione and Julius looked at each other curiously, wondering what trouble they had gotten themselves into, and rose to follow Snape out into the hall, expecting the worst. He was waiting for them several feet from the door, standing by one of the tall arched windows that filtered the natural morning light into the corridor, his arms crossed with a deep frown on his pale face.  
  
"Professor McGonagall has informed me that you wish to use the Potions room to tutor Mr. Potter," he began quietly, his deep eyes reflecting the student's own faces back at them. "Is this true?"  
  
"Yes sir," they both replied weakly, their eyes darting towards each other, sure that something horrible was about to come their way.  
  
"I have given it some thought, and I do not agree that it is in the best course to allow an inferior student to continue when he had ample time and resources to achieve the necessary grades to continue his education," he spoke flatly, carefully watching their expressions.  
  
Hermione felt her heart sink, and thinking he was finished, with a look to Julius, began to turn back towards the Great Hall.  
  
"However," Snape continued, causing both students to turn back, glancing at him inquiringly, "taking certain circumstances into consideration, I find myself with no choice but to relent to this request and grant my full permission."  
  
Julius glanced at Hermione with a brow raised, only to be faced with quite a stunned look from his companion. Both kept their mouths firmly shut, afraid even to say 'thank you' lest it all turn out to be a mirage.  
  
"There will be some rules, which I expect to be followed to the letter, Miss Granger. Mr. DeVere, you can pick them up in my office, along with a schedule after dinner tonight. For now, I will leave you with only the first rule. You will speak to no one about tutoring Mr. Potter. Is that clear?"  
  
Both students nodded quickly, still floored that the Potions Master had acceded to their request. With murmured words of gratitude they turned to bolt back to the Great Hall to share the news with Harry.  
  
"Mr. DeVere," Snape called.  
  
Julius paused turning to face his instructor once more, Hermione completing the journey without him. His dark eyes lifted curiously to a pair very similar to his own, and waited for Professor Snape to speak. "Yes sir?" he inquired.  
  
Snape paused, his mind suddenly reeling. What had he been about to say?  
  
Julius stared silently at the tall man before him, his brows raising gradually as each moment passed. "Professor?"  
  
_Say something you idiot!_ He knew what he wanted to say to the boy: to say how sorry he was that his mother passed, about how much his mother had meant to him, how much he had loved her...how sorry he was that he left them. "Make sure you remember to clean up after your mess, afterwards. I don't want to come in to find ingredients left out," he said lamely, turning to stride down the hall towards the stairwell, silently berating himself.  
  
_A/N: Thanks to all who have offered such great reviews. I am glad that so many are enjoying the story so far, as I am enjoying writing it. The plot should be picking up within the next few chapters, so hold on to your hats!_


	6. Unexpected Company

_Disclaimer: Same as before_

**Chapter 6 – Unexpected Company**  
  
Severus Snape mumbled incoherently to himself as he stalked down the dungeon hall to his office, his fists clenched, the deepest of frowns chiselled upon his stony visage. _What the hell is wrong with me_, he thought to himself; _what do I think I am doing. I am not that man anymore… I cannot be that person I used to be… I cannot bear to be.  
_  
It was fifteen years since he was last a true father, since he last cared about anyone or anything. He had hardened his heart over those long and lonely years, placing all of the hurt in the furthest corner of his mind where he had forgotten it existed. Where his family existed. Was he now going to allow a sixteen year old boy to ruin all he had worked for? _But he is your son_, a voice spoke from within, one he had ignored for these many years. _He is a stranger_, he argued, _we know nothing of each other_. The only way he knew how not to lose Julius, was to push him away, even if it meant that he could never be what his heart so desperately wanted him to be. At least until the Dark Lord was defeated. _But he needs you_, the voice continued, _and you know you need him_. "I can't!" he shouted to the empty hall, and clenched his jaw, angry at himself for losing control, his breath was coming in shallow bursts as he fought with himself, nearing his office.  
  
"Halt, ye Shadow-clad Rogue! Prepare to meet thy doom, Swarthy Knave!" shouted the over-zealous, horse-bound knight of Sir Cadogan as Snape approached his portrait. He had hung within this hall for over two years since the fat lady was restored to the Gryffindor Tower door after Sirius Black had slashed her. Severus swore Dumbledore put him down here on purpose just to get on his nerves.   
  
His sword drawn in a valiant pose, Sir Cadogan goaded the smouldering Potions Master. "I challenge thee to a duel! Stand fast and fight for your…"  
  
He never made it to 'honour!' for at that exact moment Snape lashed out with his fist, pummelling it hard into the portrait, and continued on his way without so much as a backward glance. Sir Cadogan sat on his horse for a moment with a rather silly look on his face before falling out of the saddle and into an unconscious heap on the delicately painted, grassy knoll, the gilded frame swinging precariously on one corner.  
  
The Potions professor stormed into his office, cursing himself for leaving it unwarded as he strode to his desk, preparing to grade the latest stack of third-year essays. As he made to sit down, an all-too-familiar chuckle caused him to pause, sending a cold chill up his spine.   
  
"Good morning, Severus," spoke the cool aristocratic voice of Lucius Malfoy. He was sitting quite comfortably upon the couch against the wall, stretched out along its length with his legs crossed as he absently fingered through a book Severus had been reading the other night. Turning to face towards his dark brother-in-crime, he offered a insidious smile, and sat up straight, placing the book down beside him. "Getting careless in your old age, aren't you?"  
  
"What do you want, Lucius," Snape growled, staring fixedly at the assignments scattered before him, not in the mood for visitors. _He would have to show up today of all days_, he thought angrily. As he began correcting the papers before him, he remarked quietly, "The only time I can count on seeing you is when you desire something of me."  
  
"Now, now, Severus," replied Malfoy, the slightest of frowns upon his lips, "it is true that I have come to ask a favour, but you really are being unfair. I can tell something is bothering you, so why not spill and have done with it?" Lucius watched Snape closely, taking in his darkened eyes and unkempt hair. "You look terrible, by the way."  
  
Severus sighed looking up from his paperwork, and crossed his arms on the table before him, learning forward in exasperation. "Look Lucius, I have had an exhausting few days, I am in a horrible mood, and I have no wish to confide anything at the moment, so if you will _please_ just tell me what you are after, we can both get what we want… _and have done with it_."  
  
Lucius lifted his chin slightly in response, unused to being addressed in such a detestable manner. "All I _want_… is to borrow a certain book from you, as I know you have just about every book known to the potion's world," he answered testily, "then I will be more than happy to get out of your hair, Severus. Aelfred Willendorfer's Potiones, Poisones and…"  
  
"Brewes," finished Snape, knowing the book well. Rising slowly to make his way towards his study door, he drew out his wand, unwarded it and entered, heading towards the bookcase on the far side of the small cozy room.   
  
Lucius followed him quietly, glancing about with curiosity, having never been in the Potions professors most private room. His blue eyes casually noted the various portraits on the walls, the neat line of antique potion bottles and containers along the mantle. His attention was caught, however, as he cast his gaze down to the table beside one of the armchairs in front of the fire. His well manicured fingers gently lifted a small picture frame, holding it up for closer inspection.   
  
"Are you still pining after her, Severus, after all these years?" Lucius inquired interestedly. Noting the empty decanter that had been placed behind it, his sharp eyes darted towards his bedraggled colleague to find Severus already watching him.  
  
"A momentary weakness; it happens occasionally," he answered evenly (though his heart was pumping a mile a minute), turning back to the case and pulling out the desired tome.   
  
"I believe it was weakness that put you in that predicament in the first place." Malfoy continued slyly. "Of course, whether _that _particular weakness was momentary is still highly debatable. The Dark Lord would not be very pleased, Severus, if he knew you were still mourning the death of your wife and son."  
  
Snape traversed the distance between them in several long strides and pushed the book forcefully into Lucius Malfoy's hands, giving his visitor a dark seething look. "I believe you now have what you came here for, Lucius. So if you don't mind, I believe it is _your_ turn to hold up _your_ part of the bargain."  
  
Glaring at his friend, Lucius set the photograph back onto the table and strode from the room, anger as well as inquisitiveness stirring within him. Something was up; he could smell it. He just didn't know what it was… yet.  
  
"Alright there Mudblood?" Draco Malfoy shouted across the courtyard as he stood there with his small gang of Slytherin students laughing at the arrangement of bodies making their way towards the castle. Harry and Ron were acting as crutches for the girl who had apparently injured her leg, each with one of Hermione's arms about their necks as they supported her. "Did poor baby fall down and go boom?" he cried, mimicking a broom mishap, making his companions laugh all the louder."  
  
"Go stuff it, Malfoy," Ron shouted back, as they passed, heading towards the Hospital Wing. Hermione muttering something about 'that being the last time she gets on a broom with him'.  
  
Draco laughed, his blue eyes twinkling with menace as he watched the three clumsily make their way up the stone stairs. His smile faded though, as another tall blond-haired figure stepped out, walking in his direction. "Father…"  
  
Grasping a hold of the scruff of Draco's robe, Lucius pulled his son along with him towards the other side of the fountain, causing Draco to turn red with embarrassment in front of his friends. "Father!" he complained, trying to shake himself loose.  
  
"Shut up and listen to me boy," Lucius snapped as he leaned in towards his son. "What do you know about Professor Snape? Has he been acting strangely to you?"  
  
Draco furrowed his brows, unsure of why his father was so interested in Snape all of a sudden. He shook his head, his blue eyes gazing curiously at his father. "No, sir. I haven't seen anything. Why?"  
  
"Professor Snape's family was killed fifteen years ago on the Dark Lord's orders; I won't say why. But even after fifteen years, he still mourns his wife and son, Julius. I want to know if you see anything suspicious, if he starts acting strange." Lucius cast a concerned glance towards the castle and sighed, turning back to his son. "I think Professor Snape might be losing his mind. Gods know, he has been under the Cruciatus curse enough times to do it."

_A/N: Alright, I am not too sure I like the Lucius/Draco scene, but it is the best I could come up with. Draco had to find out Snape's son's name._

_Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are really great! Keep me inspired!_


	7. Getting To Know You

_Disclaimer: Ditto_

**Chapter 7  
**  
The weather the following day turned out to be just as nice if not better than the day before, and  
Hermione and Julius sat in the Quidditch stands as they both watched Ron and Harry soaring above, practicing their technique yet again. (Hermione swore hell would freeze over the day Harry and Ron stopped eating, sleeping and breathing Quidditch.)  
  
"Are you sure you're comfortable?" Julius inquired, gesturing to Hermione's wrapped ankle that was propped up on one of the lower benches. Ron had offered to take her for a ride on his broom the day before, promising to take it easy, aware that Hermione was nervous about flying. Unfortunately, he was distracted by a group of jeering Slytherins, and while berating them, nearly flew into the stands. He tried to correct himself, but the sharp turn caught Hermione by surprise and she fell, luckily only a few meters. "Can I get you anything?"  
  
Hermione smiled, glad to have some company as she watched Harry make a rather difficult score through Ron's centre hoop. "I'm fine, really, Julius. I just feel bad that you're sitting here with me."  
  
He looked at her quizzically, propping his elbow onto a bench behind them and resting his head upon his hand, "Want to get rid of me already?" he replied with a mock frown. "Gee, thanks."  
  
She pushed him lightly in the shoulder, her brown eyes glinting as she laughed. "You know what I mean. You should be up _there_; you know you want to. Or do you only fly when you have a bunch of girls waving blue banners in your face, screaming your name?"  
  
A bright shade of pink infused his cheeks as he smiled abashedly, "You saw that, huh? I wanted to die… really."  
  
"Sure you did," Hermione returned tauntingly, not convinced in the least, watching Ron begin down the other end of the pitch, zooming towards Harry's goal with the Quaffle.  
  
Sitting up in his seat, Julius playfully wrapped his arms about her waist, drawing her against him, smiling from behind, "So, are _you_ going to dress up in Ravenclaw colours and come to cheer me on when we go against Hufflepuff in two weeks?"  
  
Hermione blushed profusely, butterflies in her stomach as she answered shyly, "maybe", and then sat bolt upright, her eyes widening. "Ron, watch out!!"  
  
Ron Weasley had apparently been watching the two students on the ground, his ears turning slightly red as Julius flirted with Hermione. For the second time in two days, he nearly crashed into a tower, but hearing Hermione's warning, pulled out just in the nick of time.   
  
"What is up with you, Ron?" Harry called concernedly, urging his broom to glide nearer to his friend. "Your broom working alright?" knowing full well it wasn't the broom's fault.  
  
"Uh… yeah," Ron answered, his eyes still hovering on the two friends below. Lifting his gaze back to Harry, he added, "thought I saw a stray Snitch flying about, that's all."   
  
As the four students made their way back up the hill towards the castle for dinner, Ron and Harry hung back a couple of steps from the other two who seemed to be getting along quite well by themselves. Julius had his arm about Hermione's waist as he helped his injured friend traverse the long walk to the school. Ron passed Harry a few meaningful glances to which Harry just shrugged in return.  
  
The Hall was already packed with students, and the accompanying noise was nearly deafening as each tried to be heard over the next. Professor Snape stood just outside with Headmaster Dumbledore, talking quietly, as the four passed before them into the Great Hall. At the sight of Julius's arm about Miss Granger, Snape raised a dark curious brow, and adjusted his position so that he could watch his son carefully aid the Gryffindor into her seat. _Things are getting out of hand_, he thought to himself. _Really, why of all houses a goody-goody Gryffindor?  
_  
Their entrance had not gone unnoticed by Draco Malfoy either, who stood just inside the doorway, oblivious to the fact that he was in Snape's line of sight. "Hey Casa-snivella," Malfoy quipped at Julius as he moved towards the Ravenclaw table, "cry much for your mummy today? I heard you were squealing like a pig for her last night. Was your mum a big fat sow?"  
  
Before Malfoy had even finished the words, Julius had his wand drawn, and advanced towards the boy, grabbing the front of his robe in his fist. With a jerk, he pulled Malfoy within inches of his face, his wand pointed at the suddenly alarmed Malfoy's neck, under his chin. Draco was stiff as a board in fright, feeling the wand tip jabbing his throat. Trembling with anger, Julius grated (his voice suddenly sounding very much like his father's), "If you ever…"  
  
But he was unable to complete his threat, as at that moment, Professor Snape pulled them apart and thrust them out into the corridor, sending them both stumbling. _"Expelliarmus!"_ Snape exclaimed, pointing his own wand towards Julius, catching the boy's now airborne ebony-wood wand in his spare hand, "What is going on here, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked furiously, having seen and heard the whole thing for himself.   
  
Draco stared, shocked at his Head of House, surprised that _he_ was the one Snape was rounding on. DeVere was the one who had been threatening him with a wand; _he_ was the dangerous one. He stuttered a nonsensical reply, pointing a finger towards his opponent, "He…. He was… "  
  
"Responding to a most disrespectful comment about his mother, I believe," finished Snape flatly. "Detention, Mr. Malfoy, my office, tomorrow night. Let us hope that maybe our time together will hammer some respect into your head for future use."  
  
"Yes, sir," Draco whispered, in shock that he had actually received _detention_ from Professor Snape. Quiescently, he made his way back into the hall which had grown very quiet with students craning their heads to see what was going on.  
  
"Mr. DeVere," Snape now addressed the other party to the skirmish, his dark eyes taking in the defiant and proud figure before him. The boy was still flushed, his jaw set determinedly. "Fifty points will be deducted from Ravenclaw. No doubt, your mother would have been proud of you for standing up for her, but there are many more ways to do so than through the use of violence."  
  
"Yes, sir, " Julius muttered tensely, and began his walk back into the hall.  
  
"I believe this is yours? Mr. DeVere?" Snape inquired darkly, extending Julius's wand towards the boy, noting the wood curiously as it matched his own.  
  
"Thank you, sir."   
  
As Severus Snape sat within his study later that night, his mind could not help but reminisce upon the earlier events of the evening. For the first time, Snape had actually seen some of his own traits in the boy, the same attitude. _He has my reflexes, my old charm_, thinking of the way his son chivalrously escorted Miss Granger to her seat, _and unfortunately, my temper, it seems_. The corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly as he contemplated that. _Perhaps there is hope for him yet. _

_A/N: A short chapter, but meaningful, I think. Severus is getting to know his son better and see something of himself, and Julius is getting more involved with... um... other characters. I enjoyed writing it._

_Thanks again for the great reviews. Keep them coming, they really mean a lot and keep me on track. Cheers, Laurie_

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	8. The Potions Room

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story and the universe in which they exist belong to J.K. Rowling. I get nada._

**Chapter 8 - The Potions Room**  
  
Julius sat quietly by the fire in the Ravenclaw common room in a old leather chair that had seen better days. His potions book was open on his lap, and he murmured to himself as he went through the steps for the Agility Potion they learned last week in his mind, preparing for his first tutoring session later that evening. According to the schedule Professor Snape had given him, they had the room from seven until nine; Hermione figured they would meet in the main hall around six-forty-five to walk to the Potions classroom together.   
  
"So what's all this I hear about you and Granger, DeVere?" Michael Corner inquired, a mirthful sparkle in his eye as he looked up from his game of wizards chess. "People are saying you looked pretty cozy the other night coming into the Hall."  
  
"Yeah, your little groupies looked pretty crestfallen; I swear I saw tears," Anthony Goldstein winked.  
  
"You guys are really too much, " Julius chuckled, tossing a balled up piece of old parchment at the two gamers who ducked expertly, having apparently had much experience with hurtling objects  
  
"So, are you or aren't you?" Corner insisted, not even remotely ready to drop the subject, moving one of his pieces on the board, causing Goldstein to wince as his knight was skewered.   
  
"Yeah, come on, fess up!" Anthony agreed, moving a pawn whose fate didn't look that much better.  
  
Julius just smiled, and looked at the clock; it was nearly time. Clapping shut his potions book, he packed it into his bag, slinging the large sack over his shoulder as he stood. The two gamers looked up with curious expressions as they watched him make his way across the room to the door at the other end.  
  
"Hey, where you going?" the one of the two asked.  
  
"I need to get to the library. Big potions essay due tomorrow. Lots of research," he answered, figuring it was as good excuse as any.  
  
"You know we're gonna find out sooner or later!" a voice called from behind him as he stepped through the door and out of the tower.   
  
Hermione and Harry were waiting patiently by the stairs in the main hall, talking to each other quietly as Julius descended the last flight to ground level. "Haven't been waiting long, have you?" he queried, "How's your ankle holding up, 'Mione?"  
  
"Oh, its much better, thanks. Amazing what a few days can do," she replied, flashing Julius a smile, grabbing both boys arms and guiding them towards the dungeon stairwell.   
  
The torches flickered ominously as they completed their descent, striding down the last length of hall to the Potions classroom. It was eerily quiet, and as they neared the normally boisterous portrait of Sir Cadogan, they realized why, as the knight was nowhere to be found. The frame had in fact been repaired several days ago by the house elves, but Sir Cadogan obviously felt it best that he visit the headmaster's office for a few days as he nursed his cuts and bruised ego.  
  
"Someone must have really got to him this time," Hermione noted, and Harry could only assume who it was.  
  
Flickering light radiated from the open classroom door, which they thought was odd until they stepped through the doorway. The room was already occupied by none other than Professor Snape, who was standing behind his desk, carefully cutting up some ingredients. The three friends glanced at one another, curiously, and Julius quietly cleared his throat to get the Potions Master's attention.   
  
"Excuse me, Professor," he began, reaching into his bag to check the schedule. "Perhaps I mistook the date, but I thought we were to have the classroom to use tonight."   
  
Snape glanced up from his work, noting the three students standing at the threshold, his lightless eyes moving from one to the next and lingering with a scowl upon Harry. Setting down the large knife upon the cutting board, he replied unconcernedly, "No, Mr. DeVere, you did not mistake the date. Please set up your equipment where you like and begin your class. I trust the classroom is large enough to accommodate us both without getting in each other's way."  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius nodded, and made his way towards one of the tables towards the back of the room, to ensure they had more than adequate space from each other.   
  
Harry set up his cauldron while Julius retrieved his potions book, opening up to the proper page for the Mental Agility potion. Hermione fetched the necessary ingredients from the storeroom and set them on the table for Harry to prepare. The plan was to have Harry attempt the potion first by himself, and then if necessary, they would brew it again, emphasising what he did wrong the first time.   
  
Snape watched the trio in a series of stolen glances when he could find the time between adding ingredients and stirring. Overall, he was quite impressed with the way they organized the lesson, and even though by smell he could tell that Harry had not brewed the potion correctly, it was far better than he would have expected for an "Acceptable" level student's first attempt.  
  
"_Evanesco_," he heard Miss Granger whisper, tapping the edge of Harry's cauldron with her wand, emptying it. They were set to begin the second try, and Snape was surprised to watch how patiently Julius went through Potter's mistakes, showing him the proper methods of cutting his roots, and stirring the cauldron, making sure to touch each part of the bottom so that there were no pockets of unmixed ingredients.   
  
Julius and Miss Granger worked well together, and why wouldn't they? They were both exceptionally bright, though he hated to admit it about the Gryffindor, and both had developed their talents enough to be able to give constructive advice in their own special areas of expertise.   
  
As the second batch was completed, he could tell by the sounds of approval and the relieved smile upon Harry's face, that the second potion did, in fact, exhibit the correct results. Julius patted Harry on the back and Hermione gave him a quick but warm hug, congratulating him on a job well done.   
  
It was nearly their curfew of nine o'clock, and Julius offered to stay behind and clean up. He wanted to make sure that nothing was left out of place so they would not have the room taken away from them. His inquisitiveness getting the better of him, he glanced over to where Snape was quietly stirring his cauldron, finding Snape already gazing at him.   
  
With an unconcerned air, Snape stated, "Very impressive performance this evening, Mr. DeVere. I was particularly impressed with your attention to minute details. Few students seem to care about the delicate intricacies of potion making that make it such a difficult art to master."  
  
"Have you given much thought to what you are going to do once outside of school, Mr. DeVere?," Snape queried, adding the next ingredient to the complex potion and stirring, counting the turns silently in his mind.   
  
"I would very much like to continue in this field, Professor, "Julian answered, his eyes drifting over the remaining ingredients on Snape's table, admiring the exactness of the professors slices and cuts. "I thought perhaps of going into forensic potions, and perhaps work for the Ministry of Magic. Might I ask what potion that is you're brewing, sir?"  
  
Professor Snape quirked an eyebrow at his choice of field. He indeed would do well, but added, "I would have thought you would become a teacher. You seem to have the predisposition for it. Gods know I have never had such results working with Potter." Glancing down at the swirling potion before him, he answered, "This will be veritaserum when complete, something you will need to familiarize yourself with if you do decide to go into forensics." Narrowing his eyes for a moment, he paused, thinking, and then added, "Would you like to assist me in completing this batch, Mr. DeVere?"  
  
Julius's eyes widened, surprised at the offer. "But isn't veritaserum beyond N.E.W.T. level, professor?"  
  
"Indeed, but you obviously have the talent and ability from what I have seen, Mr. DeVere. It is up to you, of course," dark eyes gazing towards the boy in front of him.  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius answered, still in shock at being given this opportunity.   
  
Snape gestured for his son to stand beside him and explained each ingredient and technique with more patience than he had ever shown to another student as they worked late into the night.

_A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! You guys are so great! It was time to have some bonding between Snape and Julius. Hope you enjoyed! Laurie_


	9. Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius, he is all mine :) ) and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. Yadda Yadda_

**Chapter 9 - Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff**  
  
The next two weeks flew by quickly, with Harry rapidly showing better progress than Julius or Hermione had hoped (or Snape expected). It seemed that under the direction of different tutelage, the bespeckled boy was quite capable of producing the difficult potions taught in sixth-year, many on the first try. He had just needed some closer instruction on developing his technique and some encouragement.  
  
Snape had been there each night the trio used the room, always having some excuse to work on his own private store of bottled potions and remedies. He never interrupted the students (well, except one time when Potter misbrewed a potion, causing the room to fill with a noxious orange gas), always watching secretly from the sidelines, a welling sense of pride for his son increasing with each class.   
  
Julius often stayed behind afterwards, to the shocked reactions of Hermione and Harry, and discussed the potions Snape was brewing that day, the Potions Master going over each one in patient detail to ensure the boy understood what was required. They also went over what transpired in the tutoring class, with the professor offering advice on how to get the most out of their sessions.   
  
Their growing rapport was not going unnoticed. Draco Malfoy observed their joint presence on several occasions as he made his way back to the Slytherin common room in the late hours of the night, and he frowned, wondering with horror if he was being replaced as Snape's favourite. But each Potions class he attended, Professor Snape was the same impatient, cold, and calculating man that he had known all his life.  
  
Severus Snape could not possibly allow his menacing façade to fall by the wayside outside of those brief meetings, and he often chastised himself for letting it down even then. He had a reputation to maintain, and he knew he was setting himself up for trouble, exposing himself far more than he should ever dare.  
  
He found himself sitting up at nights, thumbing through one of his many potion books, trying to find another elixir to share with the boy, wanting to keep his interest, needing his company. _Severus_, he thought to himself on one such night, _you are becoming soft in your old age_  
  
Julius entered the Great Hall for breakfast on Saturday morning to find himself surrounded by a mass of blue and silver-clad girls cheering as they escorted him to the Ravenclaw table, obviously not willing to save their enthusiasm for the Quidditch pitch. The blue banners of The Banner Brigade (as now everyone was calling them, including themselves) flittered about merrily from scattered areas of the Hall. A few even fluttered from the Hufflepuff table, to the annoyance of their own house team's captain. They waited on Julius hand and foot, to the constant chuckles and quips of his team mates.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," cried Wendle Masters in a false announcers voice, holding a fork with a sausage patty speared to its end as a microphone, "I am here today with Mr. Julius DeVere of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as he prepares for his Hogwarts-wide debut. Tell us, Mr. DeVere, what does it feel like to be worshipped as an idol?" Extending the fork over to Julius, Masters burst out laughing.  
  
Julius reached out and grabbed the fork from Masters, flicking the sausage patty back at the boy, grinning, "Cut it out!"   
  
Before long, it was time for the team to make its way to the locker room to change and go over their strategy one last time. The seven members of the team led the throng of fans down to the pitch before veering off towards the small building to ready themselves.   
  
"Julius, wait up," Hermione called as she approached, and smiled as Julius turned and paused, waiting.  
  
"Don't be too long, Casanova," Bradley, the Ravenclaw captain quipped before ducking into the doorway.  
  
Julius stood there as she drew nearer, his dark eyes following the way her hair danced in the breeze. Hermione had this way about her, a remarkable confidence that people would see her for what she really was, as if she didn't realize she was pretty, and didn't really care either way. She was real, and that more than anything else was the quality that he found most attractive.  
  
"I wanted to wish you luck before the game," she said, halting before him, "but I was afraid I'd be lost in the crowd back in the Hall." Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a blue and silver banner with his name on it, and waved it, giggling with a smile.  
  
He smiled warmly in return and shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I would find you in any crowd, 'Mione. You're the brightest star out there," he replied, blushing slightly. Taking a step towards the girl before him, his hands found hers and held them lightly. "Are you…"  
  
"Come on, DeVere!" came Bradley's voice from the locker room door.   
  
"I've got to go," Julius sighed, reluctantly releasing Hermione's hands and taking a step back towards the door. "Wish me luck."  
  
"Good luck, Julius," she answered with a warm smile, her heart racing in her chest as she wondered what he had been about to ask.  
  
The Quidditch stadium was filled nearly to bursting as students eagerly awaited the start of the first match of the season. One whole tower just to the right of the Ravenclaw hoops was crammed with girls waving sapphire blue banners with silver lettering, each wearing a matching jacket denoting them as The Banner Brigade. Hermione, Ron and Harry each rolled their eyes as they sat one tower away with a group of Gryffindor students.  
  
"Maybe we should move," Ron suggested, looking over towards the zealous fans, not really in the mood to listen to a bunch of high-pitched screaming and cheering.   
  
"Oh, Ron, lighten up," replied Hermione with a sigh. "You're just jealous because you don't have a fan club."  
  
"Thanks," Ron answered, glaring with astonishment towards Hermione, quite affronted. Moving his gaze to Harry, he set his jaw meaningfully, and stood up to find another seat.  
  
Harry groaned inwardly, and shook his head. "Ron, wait," he called, quickly rising as well to follow his friend.   
  
He caught up with Ron in the stairwell as the red-headed boy descended towards another level. "Ron, she didn't mean it, really," Harry said, stepping speedily to block his friend's passage.  
  
"Yeah? Well, I don't see _her_ standing here, telling me that," Ron replied. "All she talks about nowadays is _Julius this_, and _Julius that_. " He stood there, shaking with anger. "Don't get me wrong, I like Julius, think he's a great chap, but come on Harry; she needs to give it a rest."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, as always, the one trying to keep the peace, stuck in the middle. Loud cheers suddenly roared from above, causing both Harry and Ron to glance upwards, the teams apparently taking the air. "Come on back and sit with us, the game is about to start," he pleaded.  
  
A chorus of girlish acclamation sounded as the announcer called Julius's name, and Ron frowned, his feelings still obviously hurt. "No thanks, Harry. I'll catch you later." With one last glance towards the upper level, Ron Weasley continued his descent down the stairs.  
  
It was a good game, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams were well matched this year, leading to a tie at forty to forty at the end of two hours. Julius had scored last of the four goals himself, sending banners waving frantically, girls jumping, screaming in their seats.  
  
"Quite a popular lad, isn't he, Severus?" Albus Dumbledore intoned towards the shadowy man seated beside him, continuing to watch one of the Hufflepuff chasers dart past their location.  
  
"So it would seem, Headmaster," Snape replied stoically with a sidelong glance towards his superior, keeping his tone purposefully even with a bored quality. He had no intention of allowing the old man to know how interested he was in his son's game, let alone how proud he was of his achievements on and off the field.  
  
"Must take after his mother," Albus continued, keeping his eyes straight ahead, pretending not to notice the turn of his associate's head in his direction, plastered with a scowl.  
  
When Cho Chang of the Ravenclaw team caught the snitch an hour later, the score for the day amounted to 210 - 50, Ravenclaw, with Julius scoring three of the of the six goals. His team mates tousled his hair playfully as they each congratulated each other on their success, and one by one, the team was carried high upon the shoulders of their housemates towards the common room for a celebration.   
  
Harry and Hermione made their way down the stairs, thinking they would find Ron seated somewhere on the next level down, but he was no where to be found. Hermione felt terrible after Harry told her about how she made Ron feel, and she searched each level chewing lightly on her lower lip, hoping to find him to apologise.   
  
It wasn't until much later, when the sky began to darken that Ron finally entered the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had been waiting, sitting quietly in one of the leather armchairs, hoping he would show up soon. When he entered, she ran up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.   
  
"I am so sorry, Ron," she sniffled.   
  
"Me too, Hermione," Ron replied, hesitantly placing his arms about her waist. "I just… I dunno."  
  
"You know you don't need a fan club," she replied, "I'll always be your number one fan."  
  
"Thanks," he said quietly, and offered her a smile, glad that they had made up.  
  
"And I wont keep going on about Julius anymore, I promise," she added.  
  
"It's ok, Hermione…" Ron answered, giving her a final squeeze, "Just make sure he knows he better treat you well, or he's gonna have me to answer to."


	10. Flowers and Faux Pas

_Disclaimer: You know the deal_

**Chapter 10 - Flowers and Faux Pas**  
  
Hermione sat quietly at a desk near the rear of the library, the well-worn, wooden surface covered in papers and stacks of old dusty books. The sun was streaming in through the large leaded windows which allowed a picturesque view of the shimmering lake and distant misty hills beyond. The library was fairly empty today, owing to the lovely weather outside, and many couples could be seen picnicking under the graceful branches of the old walnut grove.  
  
Harry and Ron were playing wizards chest in the Gryffindor common room, as always procrastinating with their homework, sure that Hermione would allow them to copy her notes later on. She had tried once to hold her notes back from them, but caved after a few weeks, knowing she would feel horrible if they failed. Harry and Ron of course swore they would never let it go that far again, but Hermione didn't believe it for one moment. _Hate to tell you this gu_ys, she thought to herself, _but one day I might not be around. What will you do then?  
_  
She had been here about two hours already, making sure she had every book she could possibly need to report on the properties and uses of blackthorn for Snape's Potions class. The other students never understood why she had to be the best at everything she did, but Hermione knew that if she did not do her best, then she was only cheating herself. She had a wonderful opportunity at Hogwarts, and she wasn't going to waste it.   
  
She was having a very hard time concentrating today, however, as her thoughts drifted towards the brief moment she had stopped Julius before the last game. He had been about to ask her something, she was sure of it. But what? She had tried bouncing her thoughts off of Harry (afraid to mention Julius in front of Ron),about what he thought Julius might have been about to say, but Harry was absolutely clueless and not much of a help at all. She considered going to Padma Patil and Lavender Brown, but the last thing she wanted was it gossiped about to the whole school.  
  
Biting her lower lip in reluctant concentration, she scribbled a few words on the parchment before her, trying to get at least a couple of paragraphs down upon the blank sheet, and paused, feeling something soft lightly graze against the side of her face. Looking up suddenly, brushing her wavy hair back behind her ear, she was surprised to see Julius standing near her, a sunflower held lightly in his hand.  
  
"_Les fleurs tournent leurs têtes pour suivre votre radienace, qui éclipse même le soleil, mademoiselle_," he whispered softly so as not to gain the attention of Madam Pince, the librarian, bowing with an almost unnatural elegance, his glossy dark hair spilling over his eyes.   
  
Hermione accepted the flower with a soft rosy blush, her chestnut eyes shining brightly, feeling flattered even though she did not understand what he had just said. "What does that mean?" she asked quietly, locked into his warm dark gaze.  
  
"It means, 'you are hogging all of the books, so I thought I might bribe you with this flower'," he replied, a mirthful sparkle gleaming from his shadowy eyes.  
  
"Brat," she retorted, laughing, but decided against swatting him with the sunflower she had just received. Instead, she reached into her book bag and drew out a small empty flask, tapping it with her wand to fill it with water, and setting the flower within.  
  
Julius smiled, and sank into a seat beside her, glancing over the few words she had written. "Two hours, and this is all you have been able to write down?" he asked curiously, the mirth lingering still upon his face. "You're not… distracted…. are you?"  
  
The blush that was steadily creeping up Hermione's face deepened half a shade, as she suddenly became very interested in her fingernails.   
  
"You know, I meant to ask you something the other day before I was called away," he whispered quietly, the mirthfulness gone and replaced by something else (nervousness?). Drawing Hermione's hands out from under her eyes, and holding them in his own, he paused, lifting his deep eyes to hers. "Are you going to the Halloween ball with anyone?"  
  
Severus Snape stepped quietly from the Restricted Section, his eyes intently screening the yellowed page of an old tome as he walked towards Madam Pince's desk. Placing it before the old woman, waiting for her to check it out, he turned, leaning against the desk, to find the two students talking quietly amongst themselves, apparently studying together. He watched them silently for a few moments, noting their smiles and soft laughter, reminded so much of his past. How many times had he and Alessandre conducted their trysts in this very library, his sanctuary from James Potter and his friends. The librarian cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to the book she had released. Quietly, he stepped towards the hall, his heart a bit heavier, reminded once more of all he had left behind.  
  
Snape did not brew any new potions during the tutoring session that evening, preferring instead to sit quietly in his office grading the newest batch of essays. His door was left slightly ajar, however, to keep an eye upon the goings on in the large room.   
  
Harry had not missed the professor's presence at all, finding it easier to think and work without the dark eyes of Snape upon him. They actually got to cover two potions that evening, as the bespeckled boy easily completed the Longevity and Rejuvenation serums on the first try.   
  
After packing up for the night, Julius said goodnight to his friends, and made his way towards the door of Snape's office. He knocked lightly, and peeked his head through the opening, spying the professor with his head down, a scowl upon his face as he read an essay. With a shake of his head, Snape drew a large "D" in red upon the parchment, and moved it into another pile.   
  
"Professor?" Julius intoned quietly, not sure if Snape heard him knock.  
  
Glancing up towards the doorway, Snape glowered towards the intruder, quickly changing his expression as he realized who it was. "Are you finished already for the night, Mr. DeVere," he inquired, having lost track of the time, his gaze moving towards the clock on the wall.  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius replied, "I just wanted to say 'Goodnight'."  
  
"Making an early night of it then?" the Potions Master, asked, rearranging the papers on his desk to clear it slightly, and leaning forward with his arms resting upon its surface. Before Julius could answer, he added, "I noticed you and Miss Granger seem to be working quite well together."  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius replied, taking a step within the office to stand respectfully before the professor. "We make a good team, I think." After a moment, he added, "I… I asked her to the Halloween Ball earlier today as well."  
  
Snape raised his eyes brows slightly at hearing this. That must have accounted for the sunflower that had been on her table earlier in the day. One corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he inquired, "And what did she say, if I may ask?"  
  
"She said yes, sir," Julius informed him, a smile fighting desperately to blazon onto his face, though he concealed it, just barely. But Snape had learned over the years that smiles could be either hidden or faked, and instead looked into his son's eyes.   
  
"You seem quite happy about that, Mr. DeVere," he observed. "May I ask, why her?" Snape leaned back into his chair, as he gestured for Julius to sit across from him before crossing his own arms, prepared to listen.  
  
"Well," Julius began, lowering himself into the proffered chair. "She is the most… genuine… person I have ever known. She exudes so much confidence that just being in her presence makes me feel like I can take on the whole world. She is so understanding of other people, always standing up for those who are… less popular." He glanced towards the professor, unsure if he should continue with what he was about to say, and then continued, " I am sure you know what the general student body thinks of you, Professor…"  
  
Snape lifted his chin slightly, his dark eyes steady on those across the desk from him, but he did not say anything.   
  
"I have never heard Hermione speak ill of you, sir. In fact, she has always gone out of her way to stand up for you. That is the kind of person she is."  
  
Severus Snape blinked at that remark. He had never known that the girl he so easily condemned as a goody-goody know-it-all, the one he always found an excuse to put down had ever shown him any kindness.   
  
"She likes me despite my many short-comings, and always prefers to see the good in people…" Julius went on.  
  
"Like your moth…" Snape began, whispering quietly, and then quickly cutting off what he was about to say, his eyes widening at his slip. His face grew angry for a moment, and quite a few shades paler, brown-black eyes darting away from the boy seated before him, his heart racing. He looked deeply then into his son's dark gaze. Had he heard?  
  
Yes, he had.  
  
Julius's own eyes widened, floored by the professor's comment. "You… you knew my mother?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
Snape rebuked himself internally, his lips pressing tightly together to form an ugly line. _You knew that befriending this boy would just lead you into trouble, how could you have been so stupid. You have ruined everything you have worked for. Control_ _yourself, Severus!_ he thought harshly to himself. _There may be a way out of this_.  
  
"Yes, I knew her," he said finally, his eyes held locked to his hands which were now folded upon the desk. "We went to school together. Your mother was a remarkable woman." His hands were shaking ever so slightly, and he willed them to stop, his knuckles going white from the pressure he was exerting upon his fingers. "Very much like how you just described Miss Granger."  
  
Julius let this sink in for a moment before he lifted his eyes towards the face of the professor once more, another thought flying into his head. "Then you must have known my father. They met while in school."  
  
_Idiot! How could you possibly let this happen?_ Snape glanced up towards his son then, his mind racing as he sought an escape from his own horrific blunder. "What did your mother tell you of your father?" he countered stoically, forcing the boy to speak, buying himself some time to come up with a viable response.  
  
"She told me very little," Julius returned. "Only that they had met in school, and he died shortly after I was born."  
  
"That is all?" Snape asked, concernedly. _You must forget about me_, the memory flickered in his mind.  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius responded, Snape's own eyes staring back at the professor, pleading. "Professor, can you tell me of my father? What kind of man was he?"  
  
Snape stared silently at the boy before him, feeling more vulnerable than he had felt in far too many years. He silently wondered which he would rather be faced with, the Dark Lord's Cruciatus curse, or this. But perhaps, he had found a way out.  
  
"Your father…" Professor Snape began quietly, and paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "he was … he met your mother when he was about your age. She was the world to him, he adored her more than anything else, except perhaps you." His eyes fell back to his hands as he continued. "He had made some mistakes… many… mistakes in his life, and one day they finally caught up with him. He tried to get out, to leave improprieties behind him, but in the end… he failed."  
  
Julius just stared at the professor, shaking, and slowly rose from the chair, his own face very pale. "I think I better get back." He swallowed. "It is getting late."  
  
Severus Snape nodded quietly, feeling for the boy who stood in front of him. As horrible as it was for him to tell his son about his father, he could only imagine how terrible it must have been for Julius to hear it.   
  
After Julius had left the room, the Potions Master sat quietly within his office for many hours into the night, his head in his hands, his soul aching.  
  
_A/N: translation (hopefully): "The flowers turn their heads to follow your radiance, which eclipses even the sun." - Don't all of us gals wish guys would really talk like that? J  
  
Poor Severus, I really felt bad for him in this chapter._


	11. The Truth Hurts

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist is the sole property of JK Rowling._

**Chapter 11 - The Truth Hurts**  
  
Snape had known his parents.   
  
Julius's heart was still racing as he slowly made his way down the dark, empty corridor towards the stairwell, his mind reeling with this new-found information. He had found out what kind of person his father was, but it was not enough; it only created more questions that were begging for answers. What mistakes had his father made? What improprieties did Professor Snape refer to? How did his father die? Whatever happiness he felt earlier in the day was pushed aside, leaving a cold black emptiness upon his heart. If ever he wished for Hermione's presence, it was at this very moment, for she had only to be near to calm his grieving heart.   
  
Julius shivered, and rubbed his arms with his hands, trying to fight off the chill that originated within himself. Forcing his thoughts off his father, he instead contemplated his professor, finding some strange sense of security in him, and he reminisced about the past few sessions and the time they shared together.  
  
The man was obviously brilliant, and Julius wondered how the other students could possibly miss that fact, or not take full advantage of learning under such an ingenious instructor. He had never known anyone else to take so much time and care in how they prepared their ingredients, or monitored the exact temperature of their cauldron. Snape's use of the knife was slow and deliberate, slicing or cutting each ingredient to exact measurements; his potions were magnificently clear and of the smoothest consistency. Julius was beginning to appreciate the fact, that to the Hogwarts Potions Master, potions was not just a line of work, but a true art form, and he knew Snape was an artist of the highest calibre.  
  
The dank, nearly unadorned, stone walls and floors created a surreal echo that clamoured against itself in the late night silence, sounding almost as if there were a dozen people walking in the hall as well as himself, but he did not look back, knowing how the mind played tricks upon those walking in dark places at night. He rounded the corner and began his ascent up the many stairs that lead to the main hall, the echo nearly cacophonous now in the tight confines of the spiral stairwell. This seemed odd to him, as he had not noticed it on his way down with Harry and Hermione, but gave it up to his overactive imagination. For that ,at least, is what he thought it was until he stopped suddenly, confronted by a smirking Draco Malfoy, blocking his path.   
  
"Look what we have here," Draco sneered descending the last few steps that remained between them, "the teacher's pet. Think you're pretty special, do you, DeVere?" The blond-haired boy leaned lightly against the inner curved wall of the stairwell, his arms folded across his chest, hiding his already drawn wand from view in the smocking of his robes.  
  
Julius was in no mood to fight this night, and refused to give in to Malfoy's taunting, just wanting to get back to the Ravenclaw tower. He had too much on his mind, an unbearable heaviness in his heart, now was just not the time. Without saying a word to the boy before him, he turned to make his way back down the stairs to take another route.   
  
"Aw, is mommy's little baby gonna cry?" Draco whimpered dramatically. As Julius turned to award the towhead with a glowering scowl, Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. "No?" he inquired sarcastically, finishing with a nefarious sneer, "Well I assure you, DeVere you are going to be crying soon enough."  
  
As Julius turned to continue his descent down the stairs, ignoring Malfoy's threat, he stopped suddenly, nearly running into Crabbe and Goyle who had apparently been the source of the multiple echoes in the dungeon hall. _Really smart, Julius_, he thought to himself, _glad you were paying so much attention.   
_  
Quickly he reached for his wand, but as soon as it was out of his pocket, Draco shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" immediately disarming him, expecting Julius's reaction.  
  
Julius was sandwiched between the two hostile parties with no where to run, and without his wand he was no match for the combined brute strength of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's two gorilla-like toadies. It was only a matter of seconds before he was thrust hard up against the wall and pinned, the two Slytherins each holding an arm and shoulder firmly.   
  
Malfoy was sniggering sinisterly, that infernal smile that graced his lips whenever he got his way spreading across his mouth. "Not looking so tough now, are you, DeVere," he intoned darkly, slowly approaching Julius until he was mere inches from his face, his wand jabbing Julius's throat as Julius had done to him previously. "You didn't really think I was going to let you get away with that little scene in the Great Hall a few weeks ago, did you?"   
  
"You got off easy, Malfoy," Julius retorted, his swarthy eyes gleaming with malice. "If Professor Snape hadn't shown up…"   
  
But he did not have time to finish his speech as Draco jabbed him hard in the stomach with his fist, causing Julius to slump down, the breath knocked out of him. "Trust me, DeVere," he seethed, "No one's going to show up this time, and you are _not_ going to get off easy."  
  
Severus Snape sat quietly, close to the fire in Dumbledore's office the next afternoon, as the staff completed their weekly evaluation meeting. He preferred to sit apart from the rest of the teachers, finding their constant bickering a complete waste of his time and energy that could be better expended elsewhere. The headmaster seemed to perfectly understand this about his potions professor, and often let Severus be. They would talk afterwards.  
  
Snape used this time to reflect once again upon the unfortunate blunders of the prior evening, his mind playing back the scene over and over again as he pretended to listen half-interestedly to the congregated instructors speaking in turn to Dumbledore. He lowered his head slightly, lifting a hand to rub the inner corners of his eyes, wishing that their senseless droning would come to an end soon. Really, how long could Minerva keep on that blasted subject of Dung Bomb fights in the boys' bathrooms.  
  
Severus Snape's thoughts turned back to his son as the meeting continued. Julius had not been at breakfast in the morning, nor in his Potions class that afternoon. Severus had not passed by him in any of the halls, or had he seen him at lunch. The potions master hoped the boy was just ill, and not too affected by what transpired last evening.   
  
After what seemed an eternity to the black sheep of the faculty, the teachers began to disperse, nodding their farewells to the headmaster before filtering out into the hall. Snape remained where he was, his fingers lightly turning his delicate teacup in his fingers, waiting for Dumbledore to make his way over to the fire.  
  
"Something is bothering you, Severus," the headmaster stated matter-of-factly. To many, Snape's emotions were hidden behind an eternal mask of indifference, unreadable, or more often, misunderstood, but to Albus Dumbledore, the potions master was an open book written with large type and lots of pictures. He sat down slowly, his aging frame creaking slightly with the movement, but his blue eyes remained bright and clear as he considered the younger man before him.   
  
"I don't know if I can keep doing this, Headmaster," Snape said quietly, his eyes still locked upon the teacup in his fingers.   
  
"Doing what, exactly?" Dumbledore replied leaning back in his chair with a freshly poured cup of tea, taking a sip, his sparkling eyes gazing evenly at the potions teacher.  
  
Snape finally set the empty teacup he had been fondling upon the small table between them and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he clasped his fingers together. He permitted his head to fall, his glossy obsidian locks hiding his face from view as he sighed , distressed. "I don't even know anymore. Am I his teacher, his mentor, his friend, or his father?"  
  
Dumbledore regarded his colleague with a compassionate smile. "Why can't you be a little of all, Severus?"  
  
"I can't be his father, Albus. We have been all through this before," Snape snapped in annoyance. "I can't just come out and say, 'hello Julius, you may only know me as your potions teacher, but I am really that insufferable lowlife that tossed you and your mother away to follow a man who said he would give me power and fortune if I killed innocent people!' I can't do that, Albus. I just can't."  
  
Dumbledore sat forward slightly, placing a withering hand upon Snape's arm. The man sitting before him was shaking with frustration, his eyes tightly closed as if desperately trying to hold his emotions back. "No one is asking…"  
  
Snape looked up at the headmaster then, pulling his arm away from the old man, his dark eyes red-rimmed, his face colourless. "I want to be his father, Albus, so much that I nearly gave it all away last night." He sat up straight, combing five long articulate fingers through the mop of black hair upon his head, wanting to rip it out in the hopes of drawing the pain to his head and away from his heart. "I've been too careless, too involved. I told the boy last night that I knew his mother, and when he asked about his father…" Snape nearly sobbed then, his face distraught with emotion, his hands shaking in his lap. As his deep onyx eyes met the headmaster's he whispered softly, "My gods, Albus, what have I become."

_A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. I am really glad you liked the last chapter. _

_Thank you Arianna for letting me know the french was alright. I dont speak a word of it myself, so I had to rely on an online translator which I don't usually trust very much._

_The captain has informed me that we are in for a bumpy ride for the next few chapters, so please fasten your seat belts._


	12. Battles and Demons

_Disclaimer: See previous_

**Chapter 12 - Battles and Demons**  
  
As Severus Snape left the headmaster's office quite a few hours later and strode slowly down the main hall, he appeared an exhausted and beaten man. His cold mask was once more back in place, but he could not conceal the redness of his eyes. It was so hard for him to look at himself and realise all of the horrible things he had done throughout his forty-odd years of existence.   
  
Even under Dumbledore, he maintained his dark image, forced to commit heinous acts of terror and murder so that he was able to relay back information on the plans of the Dark Lord. Though Snape regretted each deed he perpetrated while enacting the part of a loyal Death Eater, he had still committed those crimes with cold and cruel efficiency. It was after such nights of wicked revelling that Severus Snape hated himself and his life the most.   
  
His mind deep in his own thoughts, his feet absently carried him towards the stairwell leading to the Astronomy Tower, one of the potions master's favourite nighttime haunts. It was the only place he could go (with the exception of his personal chambers) where he could think undisturbed for any length of time. The next Astronomy class wasn't scheduled for another two nights, so he was sure to have the place to himself.   
  
With slow steady steps he ascended the staircase and opened the outer door to the cool night air. It was a beautiful autumn night, with a light chilly breeze that caused the professor's robes to billow and dance about his well-made frame, and sent his jet black hair streaming about his angular face. The stars were shining brightly with nary a cloud in the sky, the full moon rising steadily in the east, casting her silvery glow upon the slumbering world below.   
  
Snape loved to watch the moonrise on nights like these, finding an allegory to his own character within her eternally unchanging movements. She, like Severus, always cast one pale face to the world, while keeping the other hidden in the darkness. _What are your secrets?_ he asked silently to the glowing orb in the sky. _What horrors have you seen or committed? How many lives have you ruined?_ But the moon kept her silence, continuing on her lonely journey.  
  
Severus smirked slightly, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he whispered, "Ah, what a perfect pair we would make."  
  
It was then that he heard a scuffing sound to his left, and turned, noting a dark shadow leaning against a stone bench he hadn't perceived earlier. The professor slowly reached within his robes to draw out his wand, advancing on the form cautiously from behind. It didn't take him long to recognise who it was.  
  
"Why weren't you in class this afternoon, Mr. DeVere?" Snape inquired to his student, moving around the corner of the bench to gaze down upon him.   
  
Julius however didn't answer, and turned his head to the left, avoiding his instructor's gaze, his eyes upon the ground before him. His long fingers wrapped his cloak more tightly about himself, obviously cold.  
  
"I believe I asked you a question," Snape snarled sternly, taking on the definite roles of teacher and elder, demanding respect. "And I expect an answer. Now."   
  
"I couldn't go to class, sir," Julius muttered from the bench, still not looking towards the teacher which Snape found extremely irritating.  
  
"Why not?" Snape growled, gripping the edge of Julius's cloak forcing him to look at him. As Julius turned his head to gaze at the potions professor, his features caught the moonlight and Snape quickly released the boy's cloak as if stung, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "_Lumos_!" he muttered softly, and moved the glowing tip of his wand nearer to Julius's face, Snape's own face paling slightly.   
  
The boy's left eye was swollen shut, purple-black flesh encircling it in shadow. His lower lip had been split, an angry line of dried blood running down the corner of his son's mouth. Snape's jaw set vexedly as he continued his assessment, his wand slowly traversing Julius's form, his dark eyes taking in the ripped shoulders of his robes. The boy had put up a struggle. The potions master's frown deepened considerably as he noted the various cuts and bruises, the knuckles on his wand hand turning white as he contained his rage.  
  
"Who did this to you?" Snape asked curtly, the tone of his baritone voice biting. His dark eyes were fiery gimlets , reflecting the light of the wand back into Julius's face.  
  
"It doesn't matter," said Julius, his own voice rising testily, glaring back at the professor with his good eye, wishing Snape would just leave him alone to sort out what needed to be done.   
  
"It does matter, Mr. DeVere," retorted Snape, his mouth fast becoming a menacing gash in his face. _Because when I get a hold of him, he is going to wish he had never been born!_ "These wounds are from Muggle fighting, a distasteful and barbaric practice. Was it a Mud… Muggle-born?" _Filch better have kept his torture devices well oiled, because I am going flay the one responsible alive._ "Why didn't you go to a teacher?"  
  
"This is my fight," Julius replied, his anger deepening, his face turning away from the teacher once more as if to ignore him.  
  
"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Devere, for your insolence." Snape growled to the dark-haired boy. "You _will_ tell me who did this!"  
  
"You can take off as many points as you want, Professor. I will _not_ tell you. This is something I have to handle on my own," Julius replied, standing, his own dark eyes blazing at Snape.   
  
Severus raised an eyebrow at this last comment, a very… Slytherin… thing to say. He was reminded of his own battles with James Potter when he was his son's age, never going to the professors, but planning his own revenge. Snape paused for a moment. He would rather know who the perpetrator was, but understood how his son would wish to fight his own battles. _But if I ever come across whoever did this….  
_  
Snape took a good look at the boy before him (When did he suddenly become so much like me?). "How long have you been up here?" he asked, his voice turning more concerned than angry.  
  
"Since last night," Julius responded, shivering, his breath forming lazy clouds of mist as the temperature gradually decreased.  
  
Snape frowned, and unclasped his own cloak, tossing it over the shoulders of the boy in front of him, so that the boy looked even more like himself, he noticed. The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder, steering Julius to the door. "To the Hospital Wing, Mr. DeVere."

In the main hall the next morning, Julius walked quietly to his first class that day, Arithmancy. He kept his head down for most of the journey, allowing his inky locks to camouflage the slight discolouration around his eye that was all that remained after Madam Pomfrey's poultice. His lip and bruises had healed as well, but it would take far longer to heal the blows to his pride.  
  
Hermione was already queued at the classroom door and when she saw Julius approach, she stepped out to greet him, concern upon her face. "Where were you yesterday," she queried, her chestnut eyes searching his own. "I was so worried when you didn't show up for Potions."  
  
"I wasn't really feeling well," he said, not looking directly into her eyes, his head tilted to the left to hide what was left of his injury.   
  
"Julius, don't hide from me," Hermione whispered, extending a hand to turn his face towards hers. She gasped slightly, her eyes suddenly very bright as she noticed what he had tried to conceal.   
  
"What happened to your eye?" she inquired, her concern quite evident upon her face, her fingers delicately touching the outline of the remaining bruise.   
  
"Peeves," Julius lied, not wanting to cause her any more concern than he had to. He reached up to take her hand gently in his and squeezed it softly, offering her a warm smile, glad just to be near her again. "I missed you yesterday."Severus Snape stood quietly within his office as he ran tests on the submitted vials of his students. His mind was not on the task, however, as inwardly he still seethed about what had happened to his son. Regardless of how Julius may want to handle the situation, Snape could not, as a father, and more importantly as a professor allow that kind of uncivilized behaviour to go unpunished at Hogwarts. He was determined to find out who was responsible for his son's injuries.   
  
On his way back to his office last night, to his surprise he found a house elf waiting outside his office door, quivering nervously. Apparently, the house elf had found a piece of evidence to the crime, and led Snape to its location. Julius's wand was lying against the dungeon hall wall across from the stairwell. The elf had obviously known better than to touch it, for it was illegal for them to do so, and instead left it where it was discovered.  
  
The door to Snape's office creaked open, the white-blond head of Draco Malfoy peering within cautiously. "You wished to see me, Professor?"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape began, moving from the table of vials to his desk, and lowering himself into his chair. Gesturing to the chair opposite, he added, his voice expressionless, "Close the door and sit."  
  
Draco hesitantly entered the office fully, closing the door behind him with a click. He hated being called into this office, never knowing what was going to come out of the Slytherin Head's mouth. With tentative steps, he made his way to the chair and sat, trying to keep his face as stoic as possible.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape started, his nebulous eyes gazing steadily at the boy.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Draco murmured, unable to read the expressions of his professor's face, which did nothing to sooth his nerves.  
  
"I was on my way back to my office last evening when I came across this," setting the ebony wand neatly upon the desk before his student, "lying against the dungeon wall near the stairwell. Any idea on how it got there?" The potions master's face held a slightly curious air, though his eyes told a much more menacing story.   
  
Malfoy stared at the wand, his heart racing. _DeVere's wand, he left it._ Draco took a deep breath and answered, his eyes wide with false innocence as they looked towards his teacher, his voice even, "No, sir."  
  
Snape regarded the student before him with narrowed eyes, not quite convinced. "Where were you night before last, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco's mind was now racing as fast as his heart as he sat there, grilled by his Head, blurting out, "Studying, sir… for your potions test tomorrow."  
  
"Studying," the potions master repeated. Folding his arms upon the table and leaning forward menaciously, he asked. "Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what phase of the moon would you pick Fluxweed for use in a polyjuice potion?"  
  
Malfoy stared horrorstruck at his potions teacher, not knowing the answer, caught off guard.  
  
Snape thought as much, glowering at the student across the desk from him. "Don't know?" he asked darkly. "Perhaps you need to study a bit harder. Now get out."   
  
Snape knew that Draco was lying, but he also knew that the boy never worked alone. He would bide his time until he could place all three at the scene, and then the gates of hell would be let loose.  
  
Draco stood, shaking, and quickly made his way to the door, nearly tripping over the chair in his haste.  
  
"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy," Snape called from where he sat, causing the boy to stop mid-step and turn to face him. "Fifty points from Slytherin."  
  
Malfoy looked at him, a confused expression on his face as he queried, "What for?"  
  
Snape scowled at the towheaded boy, his voice grating, "Because... I... can."

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! :) Hope you liked this one._


	13. The Halloween Ball

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of JK Rowling. You know the rest.  
_  
**Chapter 13 - The Halloween Ball  
**  
Julius stood with Harry and Ron watching amusedly as the main hall of Hogwarts was inundated with students dressed in brightly coloured costumes and masks. Boys and girls chattered merrily, showing off their adornments for their friends, laughing as they moved towards the large open doors of the Great Hall which had been decorated special for the night.   
  
Julius himself was wearing a sable and gold tunic belted with a sword and sported coordinating tights, looking quite dashing as Shakespeare's Romeo. Several of the girls passing by glanced in his direction with bright eyes and hopeful smiles, which he returned easily as he stood with Harry and Ron.   
  
Harry had decided to dress as a knight in chain mail, with a gold-trimmed red cloak and sword. Ron had come as a Quidditch player, as the robes and broom were easily come by and were far less expensive than to rent a costume. They had both stayed up half the last night creating a replica of the Quidditch House Cup.  
  
"What is taking her so long?" Julius whispered quietly as he leaned towards Harry and Ron, his dark eyes lingering expectantly upon the upper platform of the staircase.   
  
"You know how girls are," Ron shrugged, leaning against his broomstick. "They always have to make an entrance."  
  
And make an entrance Hermione did. All three boys straightened up as she appeared on the top step, and Ron's mouth dropped noticeably open at the transformation.   
  
Hermione had tamed her bushy brown tresses into manageable ringlets which were swept back and held in place with delicate cream-coloured ribbons, the curls spilling playfully down her back. She was wearing a beautiful renaissance-style gown of golden brocade with cream accents that flowed in a generous cascade from her waist. The Gryffindor smiled radiantly as she caught sight of her friends below and slowly descended the stairs to greet them.  
  
The three boys stood there as if petrified, unable to move, their eyes following her every step. Julius was the first to recover, and quickly strode across the room to the base of the stairs, taking Hermione's hand lightly as he helped her the rest of the way down.   
  
"_La belle lumière qui brille de chez vous a conquis l'obscurité de mon coeur_," he whispered breathlessly, his shadowy eyes lost within the chestnut pools of Hermione's.  
  
"What am I hogging this time?" she whispered in return, a warm mirthful smile dancing upon her lips as she placed her hand lightly in the proffered crook of his arm.  
  
"I do so very hope that it is me, Mademoiselle," he replied, escorting her towards Harry and Ron, his gaze never leaving her.  
  
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was strewn with floating lit pumpkins and flying bats, and the house tables had been removed, replaced by smaller round ones around the edges of the room. A band of ghosts was playing at the far end of the hall, filling the air with soft music as the students settled themselves.   
  
The punch bowl was being carefully guarded by Mr. Filtch, who looked none too happy to be there, ensuring that no prank potions were added to the refreshments, and Mrs. Norris weaved aimlessly under the many tables keeping watch from her own point of view.  
  
"Happy Halloween, Miss Granger, Mssrs. DeVere, Potter and Weasley," Dumbledore chimed joyously, leaning upon a scythe for support as he passed their table and winked, a large brass hourglass held securely in his other hand. His long white-grey hair and beard tumbled over his white robes, partially obscuring a blue sash that read 'Father Time'.  
  
Professor McGonagall, who merely dressed in her normal robes with a few added cobwebs and bats fastened to her hat was speaking with a smile to Hagrid. The four friends looked at each other funny as they tried to discern what the Game Keeper was supposed to be, but all they could come up with was a big brown furry mountain.  
  
As the band struck up the first waltz, Julius rose and bowed to Hermione gracefully, offering his hand. "Would Milady honour me with this dance?   
  
Hermione blushed at his manner of speech, allowing him to help her out of her chair and escort her to the dance floor. Beginning their dance, Hermione felt on top of the world. He had obviously practiced, or was a natural for he guided her effortlessly around the room, his deep eyes never leaving hers.  
  
At one point they brushed near Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson and the two boys' eyes met with a glare. Draco had come to the party as the Grim Reaper, and both he and Parkinson were holding onto his scythe as they danced.   
  
"This is what you're going to get next DeVere if you get in my way again.," Malfoy threatened quietly as they circled each other so that only Julius could hear.   
  
Julius was about to turn and grab Malfoy, but Hermione, catching on to what was about to happen, held tightly to Julius and whispered, "Just ignore him, he's not worth it."   
  
Julius glared at Malfoy one last time, watching the blond-haired pest chuckle softly to Parkinson before turning his attention back to his partner, closing his eyes as he attempted to calm himself.  
  
But Hermione was starting to get a cold feeling as well as they traversed the dance floor, catching frowns and venomous glares from various girls she knew to be members of the Banner Brigade. She was thankful that the waltz came to its end a short time later, and they were able to take a break.   
  
"Are you alright, 'Mione?" Julius asked softly, concerned at the way her eyes kept darting about the room.  
  
"Yes," she smiled slightly, squeezing his hand, "I'm fine, I just need some air. This dress is a bit constricting."  
  
Severus Snape prowled the dimly lit grounds outside the castle, his black-clad form melting easily into the shadows. Dumbledore had asked him to watch the rose garden and discourage any romantic trysts from getting out of hand, which was fine with him. The last place he wanted to be was inside the Great Hall with a bunch of overindulged dunderheads and sugar-induced shenanigans. It was better that he was out here, where he could keep a clear head and think.   
  
Though several weeks had passed, the potions master had not veered from his promise to find the one or ones responsible for his son's beating. He had been sure it was Malfoy who had attacked Julius; who else would have been in the dungeon that late at night so close to the Slytherin rooms? The two boys had been at each other's throats since the first day of school, and it did not seem that their relationship would change anytime in the near future. The wand had at least told him the approximate vicinity, which led him to question the Malfoy boy in the first place.  
  
He had asked several other students of his house if they knew anything about the beating, but all had corroborated Malfoy's story, which didn't really surprise the professor. Malfoy had made his deep pockets well known when the boy's father bought the Slytherin team new brooms four years ago. The only way he was going to find out anything was to keep a close watch on the boy, and hope Malfoy blundered.  
  
A frown spread across the professor's face as he heard a few branches rustling in the next row over, and stalked towards the disruption. Reaching in a hand he pulled out Anthony Goldstein and Greta McPhearson, and shoved them both towards the door to the castle. "This is an institution of higher learning, not a red light district!" _Hormone crazy teenagers_.  
  
By the time ten o'clock came around, Snape must have pulled at least two dozen amorous students from the bushes, and the flesh of his hands was torn and angry-red. _What these kids will do these days,_ he thought to himself. _Not again…  
_  
A pair of soft voices could be heard from a small alcove bench that was carved out of the wall. As Snape made his way over stealthily, he peered through a hole in the foliage of a bush, and found himself staring at his son and girl. It took him a few moments to realize that it was Hermione Granger.   
  
The two students were talking quietly, Miss Granger's head resting lightly upon his son's shoulder. Julius was pointing out several stars in the night sky to the girl, whispering things in her ear with a warm smile upon his face.  
  
Snape couldn't tear himself away. _They are so much like you and I, Alessandre_, he sighed. _I would give anything to have those simple days back. Anything.  
_  
He must have been standing their for ten minutes, watching in fascination, reliving his past. It wasn't until Julius leaned in towards Hermione, their faces mere centimetres apart, that Severus Snape, failed father and husband turned from the scene and stalked off into the night.  
  
_A/N: "La belle lumière qui brille de chez vous a conquis l'obscurité de mon coeur." Translation: The beautiful light that shines from within you has conquered the darkness of my heart.  
  
HardcoreWWnut: yes, it was a good mental image :) If you are an Alan Rickman fan I highly recommend "Sense and Sensibility" for some great eye candy of Rickman in Victorian clothing ::swoons:: His role of Col. Christopher Brandon was my inspiration for Snape's early years._

_This fic is also posted on HarryPotterFanFiction.com, though it is way behind in chapters as their submissions were down for two weeks. I am trying to catch up over there submitting 2 chapters per day.  
  
Thank you to everyone for reviewing_!


	14. Choices

_Disclaimer: Same thing as last time_

**Chapter 14 - Choices**  
  
_Severus Snape stood nervously, leaning against the cold, outer stone wall of the Castle, his shadowy eyes scouting the dark night for any trace of movement. His hands ran between hot and sweaty and chilling cold as he paced within the confines of the garden alcove. He had reached his present location a full ten minutes early, not wishing to risk losing a single moment due to lateness, and worried endlessly about the state of his appearance  
  
The moon was hidden tonight, concealing her beautiful face from mere mortals such as he, preparing to renew herself over the next few nights, making it difficult to see, but all the better for meetings such as these.  
  
She had promised she would come, squeezing that folded scrap of parchment into his palm in the hall between classes with a smile that would have lit the most stygian depths of the Underworld. He loved that smile, the one she awarded only to him when no one else was looking; felt more than seen.  
  
His ears probed the mellifluous whisperings of the rose-scented spring breeze, keen for any hint of her approach. His heart was racing within his chest as he waited in eager anticipation, his mouth dry, his fingers toying with the chain of his watch, needing an occupation.  
  
As footsteps approached from the grassy field beyond, he caught his breath, taking a few steps forward to greet the object of his affection, a weight lifting from his heavy heart.  
  
"You kept your promise," he remarked, whispering softly with nearly hidden astonishment. It had been his worst fear, that he would remain for hours in the night, waiting for a dream that would not come to pass.   
  
"Of course, Severus," she smiled warmly, stepping closer so that she came in to full view, drawing the hood of her cloak from the rich brunette tresses, allowing them to spill in soft curls down her back.   
  
Severus sighed quietly, just allowing his lightless eyes to caress the soft curves of her face, coming to rest in those beautiful pools of green. He always had an affinity for green eyes. "Alessandre… even the moon hides her face, jealous of the light that shines from your eyes."  
  
Alessandre Fortesque smiled amorously, gently taking Severus's hand in her own and leading him towards the nearby bench. "I would have thought you preferred the darkness," she spoke quietly as they sat amidst the fragrant roses.  
  
"Ah, but what is the darkness without the light?" Severus asked, maintaining his hold upon her hand. "What beauty does the night possess without the moon held as a precious pearl in its velvet embrace?"   
  
"And what does it feel to be held within that dark embrace, I wonder?" she whispered softly, her verdant eyes searching his. And with that, the future Potion's Master of Hogwarts wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in against him, her head resting lightly against his chest and shoulder.  
  
They sat in silence for a number of minutes, comfortable in each other's company. "You know I am going to marry you someday, Alessandre," he stated quite matter-of-factly.  
  
"What makes you so sure of that, Severus Snape," she chuckled lightly, lifting her head to gaze upon the sable-haired boy beside her.   
  
"The roses are whispering it in my ear," he said as he leaned in close, their lips gradually approaching….  
_  
"Professor?"  
  
_Snape's head quickly turned from the female student beside him, mere millimetres before their lips touched, glancing about for the source of the interruption.  
  
_"Professor Snape?"  
  
Severus Snape blinked, startled, and desperately tried to focus his dark eyes, reality painfully thrust back upon him unwanted. He was in his office, sitting at his desk with his head propped on his hand. He had been planning his lessons for next week when he apparently dozed off.  
  
Harry Potter was standing before him, a piece of parchment approximately two meters in length held within his grasp, filled with a multitude of lines (I will choose my actions more wisely) which he had to complete for his detention. Harry and Malfoy had gotten into a row earlier in the day and when Harry went to jinx Malfoy, it missed and hit another student instead, landing the student in the hospital wing, covered in boils.  
  
_Lines… I had given the Potter boy lines for detention_, Snape thought to himself. _Bloody Potter. . always Potter. Will I never have any peace?  
_  
"What do you want?" Snape snapped at the bespeckled boy, annoyed that Potter had torn him away from such a blissful memory. He did not have many such memories, and had kept this one hidden away for what seemed an eternity, until released from its prison by what he had seen at the Halloween ball a few weeks past.  
  
"It's ten o'clock, Professor. Can I go now?" Harry asked hesitantly, longing to get back to Gryffindor Tower and out of the chilly dungeon. He had a game tomorrow against Ravenclaw, and needed to rest up.  
  
Snape turned to the clock on the wall, and was surprised at how long he must have been out. Extending a pale hand, he ripped the parchment from Potter's grip and held it close to inspect it. Cold, black eyes glittered menacingly towards the boy, narrowing in the Potions Master's irritation. "Get out."  
  
After Harry left the room, Severus Snape rested his head once more upon his hand, rubbing his forehead gently before drawing his hand down his face, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from his features. He had forgotten all about that night (how many years ago was it now?), when he had met his future wife out in the Hogwarts rose garden.  
  
Part of him yearned to fall back asleep and continue with the pleasurable dream, to be able to feel his wife within his arms, even if only for one last time. But at the same time, he was disturbed at having so many memories breaking free of their chains, for they only reminded him of how happy he once was, and could still have been, if… things had been different.  
  
_What if I had never joined the Death Eaters? What if I could have had my family by me for these fifteen years? How different could my life have been?  
_  
_It would be like asking,' what if your father hadn't been so abusive?' or 'what if Potter, Sirius and the rest of their ilk had left you be'_, he thought angrily. _You can't control everything, Severus.  
_  
He stared down at the parchment, the lines written over and over again upon its surface suddenly striking a cord within the Potions professor. Gripping it tightly in his shaking hand so that it crumpled in one section, thinking about all of the choices he now regretted, he admitted remorsefully, _but I could have controlled some of it.  
_  
Infuriated with himself, he balled up the parchment and threw it hard against the wall, striding from the office, out into the dimly lit halls.  
  
The following morning as Harry and Ron were preparing to depart for the Quidditch pitch for their game against Ravenclaw, Hermione strode by them with her bag loaded with books, heading towards the common room door.   
  
Ron glanced at her quizzically, setting down his broom and calling to her, "Hey Hermione, where are you going?"  
  
"To the Library," she responded, continuing purposefully on her path.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute," Ron yelled, dropping everything and running towards her, grabbing her arm, causing her to look around at him. "You're not coming to the game?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.  
  
"No," Hermione answered, casting her chestnut gaze from Ron to Harry and then to the floor, her shoulders sagging slightly. "You guys are my best friends, and Gryffindor is my House, but I like Julius too. Who do I cheer for? Who do I want to win?" she said, looking back up towards Ron. "Understand?"  
  
Harry approached his two friends and wrapped Hermione in a hug, a smile on his face, though his eyes were full of disappointment. "It's alright, Hermione, we understand. Just promise us one thing."  
  
"What is that?" she inquired, grabbing Ron and pulling him into the hug too.  
  
"Whoever wins, whatever happens, you'll always be our friend," Harry said quietly.  
  
"Of course, sillies," she replied, squeezing them both even tighter. "Good luck today, alright?"  
  
"Yeah," both Ron and Harry answered, watching Hermione exit through the hole in the wall.  
  
The game itself was quite the match, with Ravenclaw in the lead for most time. Julius seemed to be on form once again, Harry noticed as he peered down on the rest of the players. The Chaser had scored three goals so far out of the seven total, with Gryffindor trailing behind with two.  
  
The Banner Brigade was much quieter for this game and took up only a quarter of the tower. Harry supposed a good portion of the girls realized that Julius was taken, and had turned in their jackets. The Gryffindors however had formed their own banner guard to offset the Ravenclaw fanatics, and wildly cheered every time one of their team passed by their tower.   
  
Hermione could hear the cheering even from her seat in the Library, and silently wondered who was winning. She had never missed a Quidditch match since she arrived at Hogwarts and felt herself paying more attention to the cheers than to the work she had thought to occupy herself with. She wanted so very much to be there, cheering for both sides, but the stares she had been receiving from the members of the Banner Brigade had made her uneasy.   
  
She had to talk to him about all this nonsense. Why couldn't Julius have been a Gryffindor, it would have made her life so much easier.

_A/N: Lousy ending for the chapter, I know. I ran into writers block at the end._

_Sorry it took me so long to post, I have bronchitis and it is hard to concentrate when you are hacking up a lung._

_Thank you for all the reviews!_


	15. Christmas Cheer

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist is the sole property of JK Rowling. I am just doing this for fun._

**Chapter 15 - Christmas** **Cheer**  
  
The Christmas holidays had arrived, and students milled about the Great Hall, awaiting their departure. The first real snowfall of winter drifted lazily downward from the enchanted ceiling, the snowflakes vanishing just before hitting the heads of the young witches and wizards. All around, students chattered excitedly about their plans for the winter break, giving each other hugs and well wishes for the New Year as a lone figure sat quietly at the Ravenclaw table.  
  
Julius had propped his elbow upon the table, resting his head on his open hand as he attempted to drown out the happiness surrounding him by focusing on his transfiguration textbook, absently flipping through the pages. It wasn't working, and the dark-haired boy found his heart aching, feeling more homesick than he had felt yet this year. He missed his mother greatly. She had always been there for him, and was the only family he had ever known.  
  
Professor Dumbledore had yet to locate any other living family member, and he was going to be spending Christmas at the school. Harry and Ron were off to The Burrow (at least, that is what they told him), and Hermione was going skiing with her parents. Julius felt left out and alone. Giving up on his studying ruse, he clapped his book shut and stood to make his way back to the tower.  
  
"Julius!" Hermione exclaimed, heading in the Ravenclaw's direction, followed closely by Harry and Ron. Standing before him with her bags packed, she offered a truly sympathetic look. "I just wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas."  
  
"Yeah, its going to be a real happy one, I'm sure," he muttered in reply, his eyes upon his hands as he glanced at his fingernails.  
  
"Sorry your stuck here, mate," Ron added considerately, "I know it blows, but it could be worse."  
  
"You could be stuck with my aunt and uncle," Harry chimed with a grimace. "Glad I don't have to see them 'til summer."  
  
"Yeah, but at least you have _someone_, Harry," Julius sighed. "I think right about now, I would take even the Dursleys."  
  
"You say that _now_," Harry replied, slinging a pack across his shoulder.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms tightly about Julius's neck, squeezing him softly. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered, and smiled as she felt Julius return the hug.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he whispered back, reluctantly letting go. Offering a brave smile, Julius continued, "You guys better get going. You're going to miss the train."  
  
Julius watched the three Gryffindors make their way out the door to the main hall, Hermione glancing back one last time before she disappeared from view. The clamouring of students gradually faded, and he stepped out into the now empty, echoing hall towards Ravenclaw tower.   
  
Christmas morning dawned with puffy snow-filled clouds filtering what little light would pass through them, giving the air a mysterious, expectant feel. The snow had continued through the night so that the manicured bushes scattered about the grounds resembled a portly snowman army.   
  
Julius stretched lazily, blinking as he slowly awakened, and pushed back the warm coverlet, swinging his legs over the sides of the poster bed. Lifting his right hand, he combed his fingers through the black dishevelled locks of his hair, scratching his scalp, willing the slumber to leave his eyes, and waited for the world to come into focus. The room about him was empty, too neat and seemed unnaturally still after so many mornings waking up with the other boys, preparing for classes. It only served to remind him of his present solitary state, and he slowly stood to make his way down to the common room below.   
  
The house-elves had apparently decorated the room overnight, as there were red and green ribbons tied about nearly everything. A wreath of fragrant pine was hung over the mantle, encircling the stately portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. A small tree was decorated with a hundred glimmering balls that seemed to be coated with real pixie dust, and plethora of fairy lights flickered mirthfully, darting about the evergreen boughs.  
  
There were several presents underneath the branches, and Julius smiled, knowing that at least he had not been totally forgotten. As he sat down before them, though, he wished he had someone at least to share this moment with. It just wasn't the same, opening presents by yourself.  
  
Hermione had gotten him a lesson planner to assist in preparing for their tutoring sessions and a book, The Joye of Potion Brewing, vol. 1. Harry had given him a pair of tight fitting Quidditch gloves to keep his hands from getting blisters from his broom and a book on famous Quidditch maneuvers. Ron bought him a large box of Bertie Botts Every-flavor Beans.   
  
His brow furrowed slightly, however, as his eyes fell upon the last long and thin package, wondering who it would be from. It was wrapped in plain brown paper held with string, a small card attached to the one end. His agile fingers carefully pulled the card from the wrappings, opening it and reading the typed wording curiously:  
  
_You have earned this.  
_  
Julius's dark brows furrowed further at the short, unsigned note, his lightless eyes glancing cautiously at the package, wondering if it was some joke from Malfoy. He nudged it lightly, seeing what would happen when he touched it, but it just remained where it was, inanimate. Curiosity getting the better of him, he carefully untied the string and ripped the paper away, his eyes widening at what he held within his hands: a new broomstick, a Nimbus 2005.   
  
He was floored. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, picking up the broom and testing its balance in his hands. It was magnificent, but who had sent it to him?  
  
Without another thought about it for the time being, he raced up the stairs to change, taking the broomstick with him, unable to let it out of his sight. In mere minutes he was dressed, covered from head to toe, ready to brave the wind and snow outdoors, and trudging through the dense layer of frozen whiteness towards the Quidditch pitch.   
  
Severus Snape stood silently, his dark eyes gazing towards the distant stadium from the height of the Astronomy Tower, the wind whipping his black cloak around his tall form as he watched the lone boy gliding through the air between the two sets of hoops. Snow fell lightly upon the inky strands of his hair and the shoulders of his cloak, but the potions master seemed not to notice. He watched for approximately a half hour before with a smile, perhaps the first one in years to graced his lips, he turned, making his way back inside.  
  
_A/N:  
  
tap………..tap…………tap…………tap  
  
The tall black-clad figure of a man stands in the centre of the page, glaring upwards at a certain reviewer with stormy eyes, his arms folded before him as he frowns deeply. His left foot is tapping impatiently on the floor in the midst of a dozen bunnies congregating about him, sniffing at his robes. Flower petals fall lightly from out of nowhere, landing gently upon his shoulders and littering the greasy black locks that hang limply from his scalp. He has the countenance of one who is highly annoyed, his brows knitted together in extreme displeasure. Expelling air in a sharp burst, he causes his bangs to fly up slightly, knocking some of the offending material from his hair.  
  
"Will someone please tell me the meaning of _this_," he mutters darkly, reaching down and picking up one of the rabbits by the ears and holding it out for everyone to see. "Think its funny, do you? Do you have any idea of how difficult it is to work for this woman?" he asks, pointing with his spare hand towards the author. "As it is, I get absolutely no respect as she parades my emotions in front of the whole world despite my protest. 'But what is the darkness without the light?'", he mutters with a sarcastic sing-song voice, a sneer spreading along his lips, "like I would ever say such a thing. What the hell do I care about the moon or anything else for that matter. I would truly appreciate it if you would not encourage her further." Cursing softly, brushing the flower petals from his shoulders he continues testily, "Next thing you know she will have bluebirds alighting on my fingers and playing with the hem of my robes, singing, while she forces me to perform a sickening-sweet Disney-esque ala Mary Poppins song and dance."_ Damn Muggles and their bloody sense of humour.  
  
"Apparo!"   
  
_Poof!  
_  
_I know it's a short update, but I haven't posted in a few days and wanted to get something out there. Thank you so much for the well wishes, I am feeling 95% better. You guys are miracle workers, really!  
_  
J


	16. Broomsticks and Bedlam

_Disclaimer: Ditto_

**Chapter 16 – Broomsticks and Bedlam  
**  
When Hermione, Harry and Ron returned to the Castle after their winter break, they found Julius in the same place as they had left him: in the Great Hall, sitting at the Ravenclaw table, immersed in a book. He was reading about the latest maneuvers of the Chudley Cannon's chaser, Collin Weatherby and paused to watch the moving photograph of the player coursing through the air, showing just how they should be executed.  
  
"You been sitting here all this time?" Ron asked as the three Gryffindors approached. "How was your Christmas?"  
  
Julius turned in his seat towards his advancing friends, smiling and holding out a hand for Hermione, guiding her to sit beside him, his arms wrapping lightly about her waist. "It was alright," he replied, trying hard to suppress a grin and failing miserably.  
  
"Just alright?" Hermione smiled, finding Julius's own grin contagious, knowing something must have happened. "You can't be that excited about a planner and a potions book."  
  
He gave Hermione a look of mock surprise, "But Hermione, that planner is a work of art! Truly!" With a wink to the other two boys, he squeezed the girl sitting next to him.  
  
"Julius, what are you not telling us?" Hermione asked, playfully jabbing him with her elbow.  
  
The grin spread brilliantly across Julius's face as he slowly released Hermione. He rose from the bench and offered her his hands to help her up as he replied, "Come on, I'll show you."  
  
Julius led his three friends up into the Ravenclaw Tower common room, and bid them to wait there while he fetched his secret. The Gryffindors glanced about curiously as they lingered in the large cylindrical room, speaking quietly amongst themselves.  
  
"Big change from when we saw him last," Harry noted to the others. "I was actually quite worried about him with the way he seemed so depressed."  
  
"Yeah, me too," replied Hermione, "I wonder what happened?"  
  
As Julius appeared at the top of the dormitory stairs, they had their answer. Harry and Ron peered eagerly at the new broomstick held within Julius's hand and met him at the bottom of the stairs, with appreciative words.  
  
"Wow, that's the newest Nimbus model!" Ron exclaimed, his jaw gaping in shock. "I read about them in 'The Quidditch Pitch'. The 2005s are supposed to be the fastest non-International-Standard broom made. That thing will be nearly as fast as your Firebolt, Harry."  
  
"Yeah, I read that too," Harry replied, his heart sinking somewhat, knowing that it would give Ravenclaw an advantage on the field.  
  
"But who gave it to you, Julius?" Hermione inquired, glancing at the broomstick suspiciously, always the one to rain on the parade.  
  
Julius shrugged, his dark eyes glancing towards his friends. "I don't know. It came with a note that said 'You've earned this.'"  
  
"Maybe it was from Dumbledore?" Ron suggested, his eyes fixed appraisingly upon the object, wondering if he could talk Julius into letting him have a go.  
  
"You haven't ridden it yet, have you?" Hermione asked worriedly, her brown eyes glancing from the broom to Julius.  
  
"Yeah," Julius replied, his dark brows raised as he looked towards Hermione. "Why?" he asked, leaning against the broom handle.  
  
"It could have been jinxed or something," she announced, gazing at him anxiously. "You could have been hurt!"  
  
"Hermione," Julius smiled, lifting her chin with his fingers and gazing warmly into her eyes. "I'm fine."  
  
Ron eyes were following the movements of the broom in Julius's hands with obvious envy. Finally, he reached the point where he couldn't hold it in any longer. "You want to go and try it out again, Julius?"  
  
Julius smiled, and motioned his friends to the door, knowing just what Ron had in mind. "Come on, we can try out some of those moves in the book you got me, Harry."  
  
Draco Malfoy chuckled with his Slytherin friends as he prepared for two hours of hall duty, adjusting his prefect's badge upon the collar of his robes.  
  
He loved the fact that he could roam the halls after hours, secretly hoping to chance across some dim-witted first year Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Just a few nights past he had cornered that new Gryffindor girl, Amanda Pierce, out of her dorms, sneaking back from the kitchens and frightened her so badly, he swore she pissed herself.  
  
He stepped out of the common room and into the dark dungeon halls of the castle, reveling in the peace and quiet and feeling quite important. It was a secret pleasure to him that he was chosen for prefect and Potty boy wasn't. To Malfoy, it only confirmed that it was not what you knew, but whom you knew in high places. The torches flickered dimly, barely allowing a person to see two feet in front of him. He could just make out the sleeping subjects of portraits as he closely passed by them, making his way steadily down towards the end stairwell.  
  
The potions room door was open and light was flickering from within. Draco peered curiously through the doorway, noting the lone figure of Professor Snape patiently brewing something, stirring the potion with steady turns of the spoon. _No DeVere_? he thought quietly to himself, envious of how the potions master included the boy in his private work, and had never offered him the same opportunity.  
  
Malfoy opened his mouth to greet the professor, but changed his mind a moment later, closing his mouth once more. With quiet steps he continued on his way.  
  
It was the sound of footsteps that caught his attention, followed by a dark shadow that darted quickly out of his line of sight, down another dark passageway. Malfoy grinned menacingly as he picked up his pace, giving chase, turning down the darkened hall in pursuit, his wand drawn before him. "I hear you, you know," he muttered to the shadows of the dungeon. "You are going to wish you had never left your bed!"  
  
The footsteps continued down another hall with Malfoy following closely behind. When they stopped, he paused, seeing little in the surrounding gloom, and a prickling coursed up his spine. Holding up his wand, he whispered, "Lumos," and peered ahead, finding that the hall came to a dead end, and it was empty.  
  
Draco blinked, and stood there stupidly for a moment, sure he had heard footsteps come down this way. Slowly he turned, and his eyes widened as he found himself face to face with Julius DeVere. The dark-haired boy was wearing an intimidating smile, his wand raised and ready.  
  
"_Expelliarmus_!" Julius cried, pointing his ebony wand towards the blond- haired Draco, causing the glowing wand to fly from his grasp and land on the stone floor several feet away.  
  
Draco retreated slightly towards the end of the hall, his eyes darting from Julius to his wand, his heart racing.  
  
"Now who is wishing they never left their bed, Malfoy?" Julius frowned darkly, his feet towards the Slytherin as the towhead backed away, nearly stumbling. "Pretty soon, you are going to wish you had never stepped foot in Hogwarts. _Furnunculus_!"  
  
Green light shot from the tip of Julius's wand towards Malfoy, who managed to duck and roll along the floor, avoiding the boil-forming curse and grasping desperately for his fallen wand. He extended his fingers as far as he was able, and finally guided the wooden shaft into his hand, pointing it firmly at Julius. "_Incarcerous_!"  
  
Ropes formed out of nothingness and Julius found himself bound, barely able to move, which gave Draco ample opportunity to regain his footing. With a smug smile, the Slytherin prefect sauntered towards the Ravenclaw, speaking with a triumphant tone to his voice. "That nice black eye wasn't good enough for you, DeVere? You need another one to match?"  
  
Grasping tightly to his wand, Julius muttered "_Finite Incantatum_," and the ropes loosened but not soon enough.  
  
Before Julius had a chance to raise his wand to Malfoy, Draco shouted "_Expelliarmus_!" causing his wand to fly from his hand and down the adjacent hall, out of reach.  
  
"Or perhaps I can give you something that will leave more of a lasting impression," Draco sneered, lifting his wand one last time, "_Cruc_—"  
  
"_Expelliarmus_!" Professor Snape shouted as he emerged from the dark adjacent hall like a black-clad whirlwind, pointing his wand towards Draco, throwing both Malfoy and his wand into the air and down the hall.  
  
With long menacing strides Snape advanced on the blond boy, pulling him up by the scruff of his robes and thrusting him against the wall. The professor was angrier than Malfoy had ever seen him, his pale face nearly white with rage.  
  
"Mr. DeVere, you will go to your rooms this instant!" the potions master bellowed over his shoulder towards Julius. His grip tightened alarmingly upon Malfoy's collar, his hand trembling with ire.  
  
Julius just stood there, his dark eyes boring towards the pair, his fists clenching at his sides, wanting Malfoy for himself.  
  
"Now, Mr. DeVere," Snape grated towards the boy, "Don't test me tonight."  
  
Julius reluctantly turned on his heel and strode out of the hall towards the stairwell. He pounded his fist against the wall, angry with himself for allowing Malfoy to get the upper hand.  
  
Snape held tightly to Malfoy, his face leaning towards him until his large hooked nose was mere centimetres from his Slytherin student. "You are coming with me, Mr. Malfoy, and we are going to get to the bottom of this once and for all."

_A/N: Im back :) There should be installments posted rather quickly over the next few days. Christmas was the turning point in the story, and things should be coming to a head soon. Enjoy and thank you!_


	17. The Dawning of Realisation

_Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of JK Rowling. I am just doing this for fun._

**Chapter 17 -- The Dawning of Realisation**  
  
Julius lay quietly in his bed, his arms folded across his chest in a fuming temper. The other four beds in the dorm room were filled with his housemates, snoring obliviously (and quite loudly) in their sleep, but sleep was not coming easy for Julius, his mind too excited and irritated to settle down. He had reached his room mere moments ago, sore that Malfoy had gotten the upper hand, and that his professor had interfered once more.   
  
He tossed and turned for what must have been hours, internally scolding himself in the silent dead of night, replaying the horrible event over and over in his mind. _What could I have done differently? I can't let this be the end of the fight. I will never live it down if I do.  
_  
Pushing himself up from the bed, he padded his way down the stairs into the common room. The large room was empty this time of night, very dark and eerily quiet. He plopped himself down into one of the oversized armchairs near the fireplace, drawing his book bag close to the side. Pulling out the potions book that Hermione had given him for Christmas, he set it on his lap, and absently thumbed through the pages, glancing at each in turn.  
  
Most of the potions were of the common sort they had learned from first-year on: cleaning potions and the like. But as he browsed the book, one title popped out, and he sat up a bit straighter, reading through the contents and process. Slowly, a smile crept along his lips and his eyes brightened. There were other ways of getting his revenge upon the slippery Slytherin, ways that did not require a wand.  
  
Book-marking the page, he slipped the tome back into his bag and slipped upstairs, ready at last to have a wonderful night's sleep.  
  
Severus Snape shoved Malfoy into his office, sending the boy reeling, nearly stumbling over the chair near the desk. The potions professor walked around to the other side with an unnaturally calm stride, his jaw set determinedly, his lightless eyes smouldering as intensely as his temper.  
  
"Sit," Snape ordered, the curt tone of his voice speaking volumes on the state of his emotions, his nebulous eyes aflame.  
  
Draco sat, weak-kneed, in the chair opposite his Head of House, and just stared at the man before him, his grey eyes wide and anxious. He felt faint, nearly quivering in his seat, his eyes following Snape's movements with extreme care, watching for some sign of what was in store.  
  
Professor Snape brushed his hands and arms over the desk to clear it, swiping the various stacks of papers harshly from its surface, sending them flying haphazardly to the floor, his deep eyes never leaving the boy before him. His scowl was truly ugly, a nightmarish expression of the hostility that was trapped within, just under the surface of his skin.  
  
"Profess--"  
  
"Silence!" Snape exclaimed furiously, glaring hard at Lucius's son, grasping the edges of his desk.  
  
He strode to a cabinet behind the desk and opened one of the wooden doors, revealing a storehouse of various bottles and containers, his long fingers extracting a particularly small bottle of clear liquid and an eyedropper. With an ominous clink, he set them down upon the desk and made his way around the massive piece of furniture to Malfoy's side, spinning the boy's chair around to face him in the process.  
  
"What curse were you about to utter against another student before I stopped you, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape glowered, leaning over the Slytherin boy, his hands resting upon the arms of Draco's chair. His knuckles were white as if he subconsciously wished to strangle anything that was held within them.  
  
Malfoy stuttered, shrinking into the back of the chair, his grey eyes darting about the room, looking for some escape though knowing there was none. "I… I don't know, s…sir."  
  
"Surely, even you, Mr. Malfoy have a better memory than that," Snape rasped, his fingers clenching even tighter to the arms of the chair. "You seemed supremely confident in your actions only minutes ago."  
  
"The… Cruciatus Curse… sir," Draco whispered faintly, sweat forming upon his fair brow.  
  
"Ah yes, the Cruciatus Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses, if I am not mistaken," Snape replied icily, as he straightened and began to leisurely pace back and forth before Malfoy. On the third pass, the potions master slowly withdrew his wand from the folds of his robes and stopped to gaze meaningfully at the blond Slytherin in front of him "Have you ever felt the results of the Cruciatus Curse, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco was barely breathing, his eyes firmly locked on the position of Snape's wand. The look upon his face told the tall dark-haired man everything that he needed to know.  
  
"No?" the potion's master asked silkily, the depths of his eyes glinting with malice. "Care to recount for me once more the events of the night that Mr. DeVere's wand was forced from his hand and found upon the dungeon floor?"  
  
Malfoy sat there quietly, his palms sweating, and he spread out his fingers upon his thighs in hopes of cooling them off. Would Snape really use that curse upon him? Grey eyes searched the black void of his professor's steady gaze, but he said nothing.  
  
Snape's mouth set into a frown of annoyance, and he swept by the boy, sending the darkness of night undulating about him, to grasp the vial and dropper from the desk. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, holding the vial out for Draco to see.  
  
"Veritaserum, sir," Draco murmured quietly.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied, his voice like velvet, leaning in close to the boy once more. "And do you know why I have this out… right… now?"  
  
Draco Malfoy blanched, shrinking even further (if it is possible) into his chair.  
  
"Because, Mr. Malfoy," Snape went on, his head lowering towards Draco's receding form, his voice rising in a great crescendo, "whether we do this the easy way, through Veritaserum, the Cruciatus Curse, or a combination of all three, I AM going to learn the truth tonight!"  
  
"Now which is it going to be..."  
  
The next night, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were to be found on their knees, scrubbing the dungeon boy's bathrooms with tiny, crude scrub-brushes that Muggles used to clean their teeth (Well, at least Crabbe and Goyle were. Malfoy was smart enough to allow the other two to do his work as well, and he spent most of his time telling the others about the spots they missed.). It was disgusting, crawling around the tile floors like some lowly house-elf, the potions master having confiscated their wands so that no magic could be utilized to aid them. They were to clean one bathroom per night until all of the boy's rooms were done in the entire castle.  
  
They had also been suspended from the Slytherin Quidditch team for a month, which shocked their whole house as the professor was well known to prefer his team to be on the winning side. To suspend the team seeker and both beaters was going to hurt them dearly in the upcoming games.  
  
"I think old Snape is finally losing it," Goyle remarked as he scrubbed around the base of a toilet. "Since when do any of us get detention?"  
  
"Yeah," Crabbe replied, running his brush over the back of a sink. "We're not supposed to be treated like this."  
  
"Its that Ravenclaw, DeVere," Malfoy muttered, leaning against the bathroom wall, his arms folded before him as he stared at nothing in particular. "Snape's been acting all weird ever since he showed up at the school. Father thought that he was losing it too."  
  
"But why DeVere?" Goyle inquired, taking a break for a moment to stretch his back which had begun to ache.  
  
"How should I know," Malfoy shrugged irritably, extending his hand out before him to check his fingernails for signs of dirt. "But Snape gives him the royal treatment, teaching him special potions and always taking his side in everything." he muttered, forcefully pushing open one of the cubicle doors, causing it to hit the side wall with a loud bang.  
  
"What is it about DeVere," he whispered moodily. "What is it about Julius DeVe--."  
  
Draco's eyes opened wide as his breath caught in his lungs. _Julius_.  
  
_…even after fifteen years, he still mourns his wife and son, Julius. I want to know if you see anything suspicious, if he starts acting strange…  
_  
His father's words came flooding back into his mind as Draco finally put two and two together. Julius was Snape's son. He hadn't been killed… and Snape knew.   
  
How could he have been so stupid. The boy had black hair, just like his; he was tall, just like Professor Snape; he was good at potions… So many similarities, and the thought had never crossed his mind.  
  
"What is it, Draco?" Goyle asked, watching Malfoy's face change from one of anger to one of pure delight.   
  
"Nothing," Malfoy responded, keeping this information to himself for now. This was the way to get rid of DeVere forever…  
  
"Hurry up you two," the blond boy snapped at his toadies. "I need to get to the owlry."

_A/N: Here it comes...._

_Enjoy!!_


	18. The Dreaded Day

_Disclaimer: Ditto_

**Chapter 18 – The Dreaded Day  
**  
Julius strode leisurely up the hill towards the castle, his muscles aching and sore after a grueling three hours of Quidditch practice, his breath puffing fog-like clouds ahead of him as it was expelled from his lips. His fingers were nearly frozen, as were his toes. As he walked, it felt like he was lifting blocks of ice instead of his feet.  
  
Bradley had been driving the team crazy over the past few weeks, calling emergency practices and barraging them with game patterns when they ran into him in the halls. It had gotten to the point that the team members had agreed on a warning signal if any of them saw the Quidditch captain approaching, giving them all ample time to duck down another hall or enter a classroom without being seen.  
  
Julius was grateful for the rush of warmth as he entered the main hall, and quickly strode over towards the fireplace in the expansive foyer to warm his frozen digits, setting his broom on the left of the fire. His fingers stung as they slowly thawed, and he rubbed his hands briskly together, to quicken the process.  
  
Footsteps approached him from behind, and Julius turned, surprised to see Draco Malfoy making his way towards him with an obvious bounce to his step. The blond Slytherin seemed to be in quite a good mood, actually smiling at him, though something in the gleam of his eyes suggested there was more to this newly acquired joviality than spied at first glance.  
  
"Evening, DeVere," Malfoy began, stopping before the fire to warm his own hands, that knowing smirk lingering on his lips.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in the second-floor boys room, scrubbing the loo?" Julius muttered, his swarthy eyes like daggers as they beheld the boy next to him.  
  
Draco frowned momentarily at the remark, but quickly regained his sardonic grin. "Must be nice, being able to get away with murder because of your connections."  
  
"I don't know what you mean. What connections?" Julius replied, his dark brows furrowed in confusion, getting the distinct feeling that Malfoy was up to something.  
  
"Come on, DeVere, you don't think I am that stupid do you?" Malfoy countered, leaning against the side of the fireplace's façade. "Your father...."  
  
Julius offered Draco a confounded glance, having no idea what the boy was talking about. "My father? My father is dead, Malfoy. He died shortly after I was born. So you see, there are no '_connections_,'" he responded, forming quotation marks with his fingers as he emphasized the last word.  
  
But the sarcasm was lost upon Draco Malfoy as the towhead came to a realisation, his grey eyes brightening. "You really don't know, do you?"  
  
The Ravenclaw blinked, at a complete loss, worry settling into the pit of his stomach. "Know what?" he replied hesitantly.  
  
"Your father," Draco drawled, pausing for a moment for dramatic effect, enjoying the silent torturous sliver of time, "_isn't_ dead."  
  
The effect this statement had on Julius's face was priceless, and Draco savored it completely.  
  
Julius opened his mouth to say something and found it suddenly too dry to speak, and quickly closed it again, his shady eyes widening slightly. His voice trembled slightly as he asked, "What do you mean?"  
  
"He works close by, you know," Malfoy continued, that infernal grin spreading further with each second, "in this very school in fact." Eyes as dark as night narrowed as Julius's fists clenched at his sides, coming to the conclusion that Malfoy was only playing with his emotions, trying to make him believe something that wasn't true, trying to make him look a fool. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy. I've had enough of your lies," he muttered, grasping his broom and turning to leave the foyer.  
  
"Ask Professor Snape who your father is!" Malfoy called to the dark-haired boy as the Ravenclaw strode in the direction of the tower. This was better than he had ever hoped, as if Christmas had come twice in a year.  
  
"Professor Snape has told me about my father, Malfoy!" Julius shouted back as he continued towards the hall. His temper was rising, and he just wanted to get away from the boy.  
  
"Did he tell you his name?" Malfoy inquired silkily, a smug grin playing on his lips as he crossed his arms before him, still leaning against the wall.  
  
Julius stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at Malfoy, his eyes burning in his skull. His whole frame was trembling with anger, and the glare he gave to the Slytherin student was like black ice. But even under the annoyance, something was twisting the Ravenclaw's innards, making him sick to his stomach.  
  
"He didn't, did he?" Malfoy assumed triumphantly, and chuckled to himself as he straightened, turning away from the silent statuesque form of Julius and stepped from the foyer to the hall opposite, disappearing from view.  
  
_I never asked his name_, Julius thought quietly, his heart pounding in his chest at this realisation, and Snape never told me. He remained there for several minutes, unable to move, as if the slab of stone he stood upon was the only stable thing left in his life, and if he stepped off, who knew where he would fall. He felt nauseous, his breathing short and shallow as his mind reeled.  
  
"Hey Julius," Hermione smiled as she approached, taking a detour from her course to the library. "How was practice?"  
  
Julius did not answer, however, and merely gazed right through her, too involved in his own problems to pay the girl the attention she deserved.  
  
"What's wrong?" she inquired, concern settling upon her features, her brown eyes lifting to his fathomless pools. She grasped one of his hands lightly in her own as her other reached up to tenderly touch his face.  
  
Slowly, Julius reached his own hand to gently remove her hand from his cheek, drawing it down towards her other and squeezed them both softly. His gaze dropped to his feet as he whispered, "Not now, Hermione. I'm sorry, but I just can't talk right now. I'll see you later."  
  
"Julius..." she replied as he let go of her hands and turned to walk down the hall, leaving her standing alone in the fire-lit foyer, but he did not answer, and soon was out of sight.  
  
Julius made his way up to Ravenclaw Tower, where he shrugged off several greetings from his housemates, and brushed by Bradley before the captain could get out a single word, alighting the stairs as quickly as he could into his dorm room. He sat upon the bed, desperately trying to piece everything together, his long fingers combing through the glossy black threads of his hair as he closed his eyes.  
  
His father was alive (if Malfoy was telling the truth), working for this very school, and Professor Snape knew who he was and never told him. _Professor Snape... could it be?_  
  
_All of the stories they tell of him, of how horrible he is, has he ever been so terrible to you? Why not, Julius? Why has he always spent extra time, showing you potions you would not learn for years to come..._  
  
_And the broom, "You have earned this..." it would be just like him to say something like that._ He stared at the broomstick lying beside him on the bed, and suddenly his temper flared once more. Why did he send him the broom? Guilt over leaving... abandoning both he and his mother, leaving him without a father, and his mother with a broken heart. _Was I not good enough for him? Didn't we love him enough?  
_  
He was trembling now, his breath coming in gasps as angry tears formed behind his eyelids, his fists clenching tightly with white knuckles, trying so hard to contain the cry of anguish that so desperately wanted to escape his lips. He wanted to scream, to yell as loud as he could, to curse this man who had left them so long ago, the father who hadn't loved them enough to stay.  
  
His anger solidifying his resolve, he stood, picking up his broom once more and headed back out, passing by his friends once more with a determined expression on his face. _I have to know. I have to know why.  
_  
Several minutes later, the door to Snape's office swung open, banging against the opposite wall. The potions master, who had been sitting at his desk, nursing a horrendous headache, was suddenly standing at his full height, wand drawn, the tip pointing in the direction of the intruder, ready to cast. When his dark eyes came to rest upon their twin set in the form of Julius DeVere, he lowered the wand slightly, but his furious countenance did not change.  
  
"Detention, Mr. DeVere!" Snape bellowed, making his way around the desk and advancing on the boy at the threshold. "How dare you burst into this office!" His head was pounding after a long night working for Dumbledore, and he was in no mood to play games.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?!" Julius shouted in the face of the man who still towered over him by several inches. His eyes were smouldering just as fiercely as the professor's, his voice bearing many of the same menacing qualities.  
  
"Tell you what, Mr. DeVere?" Snape returned, advancing on the boy, forcing the Ravenclaw to retreat with his back against the wall.  
  
"Mr. Snape, you mean, surely," Julius grated lowly, his swarthy eyes holding fast to his father's. He was shaking, his chest puffing, but he stood his ground.  
  
Severus Snape's heart nearly stopped as he found himself faced with a situation that he could not escape. He stepped back, and almost appeared to shrink in stature, no longer the tall foreboding professor, but just a man who's son realised he was his father. The shock of the moment hit Snape hard, and he stood there, still as stone, his own heart racing. He was trapped.  
  
As the professor turned, he raked his hands through his inky black hair, retreating back to his desk, and sinking heavily into the chair. Propping his elbows upon its paper-littered surface, he let his head fall into his hands, his voice a tremulous whisper, "Sit down, Julius."

_A/N: beams! not as bad a cliff-hanger as I could have left you with. I might not be able to post again until Monday, as I am going away for the weekend. But who knows, I will try my best and will at least be taking notes for the next chapter. _

_Thank you to all who reviewed. Glad you are enjoying the story!_

_Just a reminder: I do do author alerts, so if you want to know when the next chapter hits, just choose the option from the box at the bottom left of your screen._


	19. Confessions

_Disclaimer: You know the deal_

**Chapter 19 - Confessions  
**  
Julius hesitated a moment near the door, trembling, though from rage or from fear of what was about to be revealed he could not say. He had come down to his father's office full of passionate anger, wanting answers, wanting to know the truth. Now that the time had come, he wondered if he would be able to handle hearing about this new reality.   
  
Anger still filled him, salting the bitter wounds of loss and abandonment, and it was not something that was going to be easily dismissed, cast to the wayside by a few meaningless excuses. Cimmerian eyes glimmered from under the dark, adumbral strands that fell carelessly over his brows, reflecting the inner turmoil of the Ravenclaw's heart as he slowly made his way towards the chair opposite the professor.  
  
The potions master gradually lifted his head just enough that his own nebulous eyes could be seen in the spaces between his pale dextrous fingers as his son sat before him. The shadowy pools were red-rimmed, and seemed like they contained the sorrow of the entire world within their fathomless depths as they stared at the boy across from him.   
  
Severus Snape could not decide whether to be irate or ashamed, unsure of what his next course of action should be. This was not how he wanted his son to find out about his father. He wanted so many times during those late-hour potion sessions to sit down with the boy and tell him _everything_, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, though now he wondered if it was truly fear of the Dark Lord, or of the boy's possible rejection that held his tongue.   
  
The boy sitting opposite him reminded him so much of himself, and looking into those deep black depths only reflected his own inner anxieties and fear back at the potions professor. He swallowed, desperately trying to find some form of moisture in his mouth that would allow him to speak, finding it so difficult to utter the first few words that would bring the truth out into the light. When he finally did, his voice was soft, full of uncertainty, his brown-black eyes shimmering tumultuously. "Who told you?"  
  
Julius gazed fixedly at the older man across the desk, his temper unasuaged, unchanged even by the remorseful attitude emanating from Professor Snape. He stared contemptuously at his father, the man who deserted him, and answered his question with another. "Why did you leave us?"  
  
"Who _told_ you?" Snape inquired once more, his fingers clasping together before his lips as his swarthy eyes darkened further, his own agitation growing.   
  
"Were we not good enough for you?" Julius snapped back, his voice turning cold as ice.  
  
"I asked, _who told you_?!" the professor bellowed, his hands planted on the desk as he half stood to look down upon the boy, his dark eyes smouldering fiercely.  
  
But Julius rose from his chair and stood as well, at his full height, his hands lying flatly upon the wooden surface, supporting his weight as he leaned in towards the teacher, his face twisted in anger. "Why didn't you love us?!"  
  
"I loved both you and your mother more than you could ever imagine in that stubborn head of yours!" Snape shouted in return, his pale face distorted in annoyance. In an attempt to regain some of his composure after that outburst, he turned, and strode several paces behind the desk, his back to his son. He crossed one arm before his chest, cupping his other elbow in the palm as he rubbed his forehead with the other. "Do you have any idea," he began, his voice once more under control, but just barely, tremulous, "how much it pained me, how much it ripped my heart apart to be away from you?"  
  
Turning slowly around to face the boy once more, the potions master's face seemed drawn and weary, this conversation draining every ounce of energy, breaking down every defensive shield he had constructed over the past fifteen years, crumbling them one after another, leaving him vulnerable to those lightless eyes that stared from the other side of his desk. "Do you know what it is like to hurt so deeply and not be able to show any trace of emotion, to be unable to mourn the loss of those you loved so very much?"  
  
"My mother knew," Julius responded virulently, "She had a heart; she had loved no less than you. If you loved her as much as you say then why did you leave?"  
  
"You don't understand, Julius. I had no choice," Severus Snape replied, tilting his head back and sighing in exasperation. His shadowy gaze remained upon the ceiling of the office as the memories of that day, and those that led up to that moment flickered through his mind. Shaking his head slowly, he glanced over towards his son, an intense sadness in his eyes. "Believe me, if I could have turned back time, if I had a second chance, I would have never left either you or your mother."  
  
The sixth-year laughed bitterly at the professor's last remark, and sank heavily back into the chair, propping his elbows on the desk, supporting his head between his hands. His voice was shaky as he spoke his next words, filled with anguish. "You _had_ a second chance with me, _Father_," he replied with a sarcastic emphasis on the last word, lifting his eyes once more to the man across the room. "In fact, you had many chances. You could have told me on my first day, or after any of those tutoring sessions. You could have told me at Christmas when you sent me that broom," Julius responded, pointing to the Nimbus that was leaning against the wall by the door.   
  
"Instead, you dangle this mentor act before my eyes, making me admire you, making me look at you more than as a teacher, like the father-figure that I so desperately wanted in my life!" As each word spilled from his lips, his anger increased until burning tears welled behind his lids, threatening to spill down the curves of his cheeks, his voice becoming more ragged and hoarse. "But it is all just a façade, an empty, meaningless façade, as you had no intention of revealing your true place in my life, of taking the great leap of responsibility and claiming me as your own son!"  
  
Snape stood rooted to where he was, his face growing paler with each word his son shouted, his breath caught in his lungs, knowing deep within that each syllable was true. With shaking hands, he grasped the back of his chair, and slid it around the desk so that it was placed before Julius, and sank with a flurry of black robes onto its surface. "Sit, Mr. De-- Julius, there are some things that you should know, I think, before you continue your rant ."  
  
"What, more lies?" Julius replied, sitting down in his chair and crossing his arms sullenly, glaring at the man before him without sympathy.  
  
The potions master closed his eyes briefly, knowing he deserved that remark, and kept his patience, though an automatic frown creased his lips. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms upon his thighs, clasping his fingers together before him. He did not look at his son as he spoke, focusing his gaze instead upon a stone tile between them on the floor. It was easier to talk about his past this way, without the seeing the judgemental stares of those he was speaking to, and often used the same technique when speaking to Dumbledore even though he knew that empathy and not judgement would be sparkling from the old man's eyes.  
  
"I told you before, that your father… that _I _made many mistakes in my life. My most regrettable mistake, the one that began the long string of many others was the day I entered into the service of the Dark Lord." Hesitantly, Snape reached for his left sleeve and rolled it up his arm, revealing the skull and snake symbol of the Dark Mark, holding out his arm for Julius to view, though he kept his own eyes upon the floor, hating even to look upon it.  
  
Julius paled slightly, his dark eyes casting a shocked glance to the man before him. His father was a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's own band of dreaded mercenaries. He said nothing, but saw his father and the potions master he had admired in a different light.  
  
"It did not take long," Snape continued, rolling the sleeve back down, eager to hide that brand he hated with a passion, "for me to realise that I had made such a significant mistake, but it was too late. Once you join the Dark Lord's followers, there is no way out but death." He lifted his eyes, so full of years of pain and loss, to his son then as he added, "And many was the time when I seriously considered that very path. Perhaps it would have saved us both a considerable amount of pain and heartache."  
  
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Julius asked his father, trying to keep his voice even. After such a speech it was difficult not to be moved by it all.  
  
"Because I want you to know the truth, the way it should have been told to you long before now, from my own lips instead of another's. It is true, that I had not intended to reveal that side of my identity to you, to keep you blissfully ignorant of the horrible things your father has done, and I hope that one day you will see fit to forgive me for these past fifteen years. But I must continue. I want you to understand."  
  
"It was shortly after you were born that I saw the errors of my ways, and contacted Professor Dumbledore in hopes that he could rid me of this… vile thing," he grimaced, gesturing to the Dark Mark on his forearm. "But alas, he was unable to do so. He suggested that I work for him, spying, gathering information on the Dark Lords movements and future plans, and I agreed.   
  
"But the Dark Lord soon became suspicious of my activities here at the castle, and set me a task to prove my loyalty to him." He paused for a moment, and sighed softly. "This may be difficult for you to hear, for I know that you are friends with Mr. Potter, though why I cannot even begin to fathom. James Potter, Harry's father, worked as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic, and had become a particularly painful thorn in the Dark Lord's side, which again, is no surprise to me. I went to school with Mr. Potter's father, and can attest to the arrogance he possessed… but I am rambling.   
  
"The Dark Lord had received information from one of his followers by the name of Peter Pettigrew, and ordered me to kill James and Lily Potter, and their son, and if I failed, he would kill my family instead. "  
  
Julius blinked at this admission, his dark eyes widening as he gasped.   
  
"Naturally I could not kill another member of Professor Dumbledore's order. I tried to contact someone from the order but was unable to locate them quickly enough. I sent a message to," and Snape grimaced at the name, "Sirius Black, a trusted friend of the Potters, and then made my way quickly to the manor, with barely enough time to herd you and your mother from the building before the Dark Lord learned of my failure and ordered my punishment."  
  
Snape gazed up at his son once more, a look of weary sadness upon his features. "It was the hardest thing I have ever done, saying goodbye to your mother. I loved her very much. She was my light… in the darkest of places."   
  
He sighed then, allowing his head to fall forward slightly and combed his long fingers through his black hair. "The Dark Lord thinks that both of you died when one of his men set the manor ablaze. If he found out that you were alive," he shook his head, "I don't know what would happen. I have lost you both once already. I have no wish to go through the pain of losing you again. That is why it is so important that you tell me who told you, Julius."  
  
"Malfoy," Julius whispered quietly, his heart racing in his chest, shocked by all that had been said.   
  
"Draco Malfoy?" Snape returned, glancing up quickly towards his son with concern evident in his eyes.   
  
"Yes, sir," Julius replied.  
  
Snape nodded quietly, though his mind was racing. Standing, he made his way towards the door to see his son out. "It is late, Mr. DeVere… and you _will_ still use that name. It is best that you go back to your house's tower, and go to bed."  
  
Julius stood hesitantly, wanting to hear more, but too stunned to argue with the professor. He nodded quietly and made his way to the door, about to step out into the hall.  
  
"Julius," Snape said, interrupting his progress, causing the boy to turn and gaze at his father. "Everything you heard in this office and from Draco Malfoy shall be kept quiet. No one else is to know. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir" the boy replied.  
  
"And…"Professor Snape added hesitantly at first, "just because I may not acknowledge you publicly, doesn't mean, that I am not very proud to have you as my son."

_A/N: Surprise!!!!! Now I expect to get multitudes of reviews for giving up my weekend to write this!_

_No, I am just kidding. My weekend plans fell through so I had some time to write (but you can still send me lots of reviews if you like :) )_

_This was a really difficult chapter to write as there is such a huge emotional component to it. Hope it came across alright. Cheers! Laurie_


	20. Confrontation

Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist are the sole property of JK Rowling. The plot is mine and was created just for fun.  
  
Chapter 20 - Confrontation  
  
Snape sighed after he closed the door behind Julius, standing there for a moment with his hand lingering upon the door knob, his eyes closed, wondering when he was going to wake up from this nightmare. That is what this had to be, a horrible dream caused by too many nights without sleep. He was, after all, Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, the one who kept everything to himself, carefully hidden, locked behind doors to which even he did not have the key.  
  
Perhaps that was his problem, he mused. He had become so supremely confident in his ability to put up barriers that he overlooked the chance that perhaps someone else would know how to pick the lock. And now he found himself wide open and vulnerable, unable to stir from this oppressive hallucination for the singular distressing reason that it was real. Draco Malfoy, of all people who had to solve the secret equation, he thought bitterly.   
  
Turning the knob on the door, he made his way out into the darkened halls of the dungeon, and strode purposefully towards the entrance to the Slytherin rooms, passing like a black shadow in the dim torchlight. The few portraits that hung upon the dungeon walls snored peacefully in their slumber as he proceeded, approaching the hidden door. Whispering the password, he pushed it open and stepped within, pausing for a moment to allow his sable eyes to adjust to the unlit expanse. Draco slept in the left upper dorm and the potions professor made his way up the winding stone stairway, turning the knob on the door and making his way inside.   
  
Malfoy was sleeping quietly in his bed, the green Slytherin coverlet pulled tightly up to his neck as if the boy was afraid that something might snatch him out of the dark. He wasn't that far off tonight. Professor Snape frowned, looking down upon the towheaded trouble-maker and grasped the edge of the coverlet, pulling it down to Malfoy's ankles in one quick motion.   
  
The sudden movement awakened Draco instantly, and he nearly screamed as the dark figure of the potions master loomed above him, but Snape quickly covered the boy's mouth with his hand.   
  
He whispered menacingly, "Get up," grabbing the collar of his student's nightshirt and dragged him from the warmth of his bed, pushing him in the direction of the doorway, causing the half-asleep boy to stumble, nearly running into the frame.  
  
Noting the unsteadiness of the Slytherin's gait, the professor grasped the back of the boy's shirt and guided him forcefully down the stairs and out into the hall, caring little about the boy's murmured protests. For the second time in as many months, Snape shoved Malfoy into his office, allowing the boy to trip over his own feet and fall to the floor, knocking the breath out of him.  
  
"Explain yourself, Mr. Malfoy," Snape growled, advancing towards Draco's fallen figure, towering over him, his shady eyes shimmering like black ice.  
  
Draco rolled over and sat up, blinking sleepily at the professor standing over him, his face revealing his confusion. "Explain, sir?"  
  
The professor reached down to pull Draco up and thrust him hard against the wall, replying angrily, "I believe you know exactly to what I am referring, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Apparently his head hitting the wall was enough to finally release the Slytherin from his stupor, as he answered nervously, "Oh… that. I guess you and DeVere… or should I say Snape had a bit of a chat?"  
  
"You might say that," Snape returned menaciously, as he leaned in towards the blond-haired boy, Draco's eyes widening in fear. "Who else have you told? Crabbe? Goyle?"  
  
Malfoy shook his head in denial, but he squirmed, grimacing under the intimidating stare of his potions teacher as he revealed, "My father."  
  
Noting the drastic change in the Slytherin Head's face, which turned from a raging red to a murderous white at his admission, he added quickly, "He… he told me that you were losing your mind, that if I saw anything strange to… to let him know. When you started giving us detentions and taking off points…" Malfoy was near panicking now, "…you never did that before, Professor."  
  
"How long?" Snape sneered, grasping Draco's collar tighter within his hand, twisting the shirt so that it nearly strangled him.  
  
"Sir?" Draco rasped, barely able to expel enough breath to speak. His face was beginning to go pale.  
  
"How long ago did you notify your father?" Snape repeated slowly, his grip continuing tightly, leaning his head forward until his nose was nearly touching the frightened boy's face.   
  
"Two days… by owl," the blond boy squeaked, white spots appearing before his eyes as the world around him spun, feeling faint.  
  
Snape released the boy, allowing him to spill onto the floor, gasping for breath as the potions master contemplated this bit of news. Two days. If he was lucky, the owl would not find the man for at least a week, as the Death Eater was supposedly in hiding since he broke out of Azkaban over the last summer, a rather easy feat since the dementors had shown their unwillingness to guard the wizard prison any longer. Snape was surprised he had shown up at the school a few months ago, however, as the Ministry still had its Aurors on the lookout for the escaped prisoners.  
  
Severus paced back and forth across the office, his mind on his own problems as Draco coughed and choked on the floor, staring at the professor with wide fearful eyes, afraid to move from the spot.  
  
It is all my fault, he thought bitterly to himself as he sank into his chair behind his desk, his dark eyes held upon the ceiling, fighting back tears of frustration. If only I had kept my distance; if only I hadn't allowed myself to care, none of this would have happened. But I had to be the boy's father. I had to be something more than I deserved to be.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," he started with an unnatural calm, like the eye of a hurricane, "if I hear that this has gotten out to anyone else… anyone at all," and then looked deeply into the Slytherin boy's eyes, his own filled with deadly seriousness, "when your father arrives -- and I am sure he shall -- he will find not a single hair from your head, for I will have left no trace of your former existence. Is that understood?"  
  
Draco's eyes widened further, his jaw suddenly slack, knowing in his own mind that the potions master had indeed gone mad. With a quivering voice, he nodded, "Yes, sir."  
  
"Now you will get back to your dormitory, where you shall remain until I give permission for you to leave."  
  
"Yes, sir," Draco murmured, quickly rising to his feet and darting from the office.  
  
Snape sat there quietly for a few moments, staring out into space, overwhelmed by everything that had transpired. He needed to speak to the headmaster, the man who was his own father-figure, though he would never admit it. He felt helpless, unsure of what actions to take, unable to find a viable escape from horrible nightmare that was his life.  
  
Julius quietly entered the Ravenclaw common room, thankful that it was so late and therefore dark and deserted. He had no wish to answer any questions, as he knew there would be if anyone saw his face at this moment. Hi heart seemed both empty and overfull at the same time, if that was possible, his head aching with the replays that flickered over and over again in his mind.   
  
Careful to step lightly lest he wake his housemates, he crept into his dorm room and stretched out onto the bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes, knowing that sleep would be far from taking him this night. He laid there with his dark eyes staring into the blindness of night for several hours, battling with the myriad emotions that flip-flopped in every direction.  
  
He should be happy, overjoyed at the fact that his father was alive, that he had at least one living relative left in his life, but instead he found himself torn between the admiration he had felt for his potions teacher and the horror of finding out the truth of his father's past.   
  
His father had been a Death Eater, a murderer, and a spy. He was ordered to kill one of his best friend's parents, and Harry himself. Gods, what if he had gone through with it? The thought made the potions master's son sick to his stomach, and he turned over onto his side, clutching his abdomen.  
  
The Dark Lord thought that he was dead. What would happen to both him and his father if he found out the truth? Would Voldemort come after him again?  
  
It was all too much to bear, and he turned his face into his pillow, concealing his quaking sobs from the others who shared the room. Gripping it tightly in his long fingers, he wrapped his arms about it, embracing it, desperately wishing that his father, the one he had always dreamed about, was there to embrace him back.  
  
A/N: Hello all, I apologise for the lack of italics in this chapter, as ff.net seems to have changed their editing process.  
  
Thank you to all who reviewed. I am glad, as always, that you are enjoying this story. I am writing this for you guys. Cheers! Laurie 


	21. The Nightmare Continues

Disclaimer: The same as always.  
  
Chapter 21- The Nightmare Continues  
  
Early the next morning, a knocking was heard upon the door to the headmaster's office, much to the surprise of Albus Dumbledore, who had come to his office earlier than usual in the hopes of getting a head start on his day. He glanced out the window to find the sun barely breaking over the horizon, the soft pink hues sending the darkness of night retreating from the cloud-mottled sky. He was astonished that someone with business to see the headmaster would arrive so soon after dawn.  
  
Fawkes seemed disconcerted as well, stirring upon his post, crying reproachfully, and then settling down once more, his head under his reddish gold wing.  
  
"Come in," Dumbledore intoned concernedly, his blue eyes looking down his long, crooked nose towards the door, as he lowered himself into his seat behind the desk.   
  
Severus Snape strode unsteadily into the room, his hair and robes dishevelled, and stumbled to the chair across from the older man, his hands grasping the back to hold himself upright. "Headmaster, excuse my interruption," the professor slurred slightly as he drew his dark robes about himself, his shadowy eyes gazing madly towards the old man before him, "but I really needed to speak to you."  
  
Dumbledore was shocked at the bedraggled appearance and apparent drunkenness of one of his head teachers, and had risen from his chair as Snape entered the office, quickly moving to guide him to sit in the one before his desk. "Severus, what happened?" With a dart of blue eyes, a kettle poured a cup of dark black liquid which slid over the headmaster's desk, pausing in front of the potions master.  
  
"My worst nightmare," Snape replied, grimacing as the headmaster picked up the coffee cup and placed it in the professor's hands as if he wasn't capable of doing it himself. With a frown towards the old man, he raised the cup to his lips, sipping carefully, and then taking several long swallows, allowing the richness of its scent to permeate the hazy-headedness of his alcoholic stupor.   
  
He closed his eyes, lowering the cup as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his lap, his fingertips turning it slowly, watching his unmoving reflection upon its dark surface. "Julius knows."  
  
The headmaster raised a bushy white eyebrow as he absorbed this news, settling himself in the chair beside his potions professor. "Ah, and I suppose it was not warmly received when it was told to him?" the older man replied, sitting back in his chair, watching the younger man before him carefully. "How did he find out?"  
  
Snape laughed bitterly, lifting the coffee to his lips, sipping once more before he answered. "Draco Malfoy, the last student on earth I would have wanted to know." Setting the cup upon the desk, he combed his fingers through his hair and wiped his eyes tiredly. "And that is not the worst of it. Draco sent the news to his father two -- no, three days ago now."  
  
Dumbledore listened quietly, sympathetically to the teacher, feeling at least partly to blame, himself. He was, after all, the man who had asked the potions master to spy on the Dark Lord in the first place. He was the cause of Voldemort's distrust of Serverus's loyalty.  
  
"The Dark Lord will find out about the ruse through Lucius Malfoy," Snape began sadly, shaking his head, and turned his swarthy gaze to the wizard before him. "How am I to protect my son, Albus?"  
  
The headmaster sighed heavily, and crossed his arms before him, frowning as he closed his eyes, thinking quietly to himself. He pitied the man sitting near him, remembering how many nights Severus spent within this very office, as besotted as he was now, grieving for the loss of his family. The old man knew he had failed both families that night, the Potters and the Snapes, and rarely did a day go by that he wished he could have done things differently.  
  
"What did you tell Julius?" Dumbledore asked, changing the subject for the time being, unable to come up with an answer to assuage the professor's fears.  
  
"Everything. Everything. What else could I do?" the dark-eyed man muttered, allowing his head to fall forward, the greasy black strands of his hair hanging before his face. "I can't lose him, Headmaster, not after allowing him back into my heart once more. It has been so long since I was proud of someone, since I… cared."  
  
"Julius is safe as long as he is at Hogwarts, Severus," the old wizard returned, "Voldemort would not dare enter these grounds. It is you that I am concerned about. Have you had any warning?"  
  
Snape shook his head, his right hand unconsciously rubbing his left forearm. "No. But that does nothing to calm my anxiety. Personally, I don't care what happens to me, as long as the boy is alright. But he cannot stay here forever, there will come a time when he must leave these protected walls."  
  
Dumbledore poured the potions master another cup of coffee, and they sat in silence for a time before he questioned, "Have you told Julius about your fears?"  
  
"He knows that the Dark Lord believes him to be dead, but he does not know about Lucius," Snape sighed, leaning back into his chair, his nebulous eyes dull and hopeless.  
  
"You owe it to him to tell him, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, gazing towards the ragged man beside him. "He is old enough to know what dangers may lie ahead. You cannot protect him forever."  
  
"That has become more than apparent, of course," Snape snapped bitterly, wishing he could lock his son in some remote place, away from every danger the world possessed. Rising a bit more steadily from his chair, strode purposefully towards the door, and paused just before grasping the knob. Turning slightly to glance at the wizened old man, he said gratefully, "Thank you, Headmaster."  
  
The next morning, Julius met Hermione outside the Great Hall after breakfast to walk to Potions together. He hadn't bothered to join either his friends or housemates at the tables, choosing to skip the meal, his stomach still quite unsettled from all that transpired the night before. But as he approached her from the corridor, something in the way she smiled at him eased his fears slightly, and a smile of his own drifted onto his lips. She always had that effect on him. His dark eyes catching the firelight as he neared, he reached for her hand, holding it lightly within his own as they turned to make their way to class.   
  
"I'm sorry about last night, Hermione," he apologised as they walked down the hall towards the stairs. "I just had a really rough day."  
  
"I heard," she smiled.  
  
Julius suddenly stopped, nearly causing Hermione to stumble, and turned to face her, a shocked expression upon his face. "You did?"   
  
"Well, yeah… it's all over the school," she chuckled softly, her brown eyes shining in the torchlight, quirking a brow as she noted his wide-eyed countenance. "Why do you look so horrified? I mean, I know he can be hard on people, and he can really get on your nerves sometimes, but lets face it, he is great at motivating others and only wants them to do their best."  
  
Julius just stared at the girl beside him like a deer caught in headlights. If handing out detentions like candy is her idea of motivation…  
  
"I mean, if it wasn't for him," Hermione continued in his appalled silence, "you guys wouldn't be so close to capturing the Quidditch Cup, would you?"  
  
Quidditch Cup? What does my father have to do with the Quidditch Cup? "Huh?" Julius asked, thoroughly confused now. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Bradley," Hermione replied, looking at him as if he had two heads. "Your Quidditch Captain? He has been driving the entire team nuts from what I have heard."  
  
"Oh," Julius returned, blinking as comprehension finally dawned.   
  
"Who did you think I was talking about?" Hermione inquired curiously as they began to move once more, stepping lightly down the stairwell.  
  
"Oh… um… I don't know." Julius responded hesitantly, "Bradley has been working us so hard I can't keep my mind straight."  
  
They were the last students to enter the potions classroom just as the bell rang. Professor Snape was already standing behind his desk, and gave them both a sinister leer as they set up their cauldrons. "Running late, Miss Granger, Mr. DeVere? Might I suggest you save your lustful, pubescent trysts for the evening hours so as not to interfere with your timely arrival for your requisite studies. Obviously students your age feel that such tedious tasks like attending potions classes are less important than satisfying your hormonal urges, but I can assure you to the contrary."  
  
Julius glanced up quickly, giving his father an apologetic look as he hastily turned to the proper page in his potions book, but he merely received one of the professor's trademark scowls in return.   
  
The rest of the class seemed to go fairly well, though Julius seemed much more nervous when the professor passed by their table, and nearly placed the gillyweed into the potion too early. Luckily, Hermione caught his hand before he did, but let it go quickly as she noted the quick dart of shadowy eyes and frown from Snape.  
  
Malfoy was unusually quiet as well, seeming to sink lowly into his chair each time Snape walked by, as if he wanted to be as unobtrusive as possible. Had Snape confronted Malfoy after their talk last night? If he had, it obviously had not gone well for Draco. Julius couldn't help but smile to himself as he thought of his father's reaction. His eyes followed the potions professor as often as he could afford, but the tall man gave no outward sign that he was the least bit interested in his son's progress or presence.  
  
As they bottled their potion for testing at the end of class and packed up, he noted that Draco cleaned up as quickly as he was able, and was the first one out the door as the bell rang. Julius chuckled to himself as he packed his book into his bag, and was about to escort Hermione to her next class when a deep baritone voice called from the vicinity of the professor's desk.  
  
"Mr. DeVere, if you would stay a moment, there are some things we need to discuss," Snape called from behind his desk. "In my office, if you please."  
  
Julius gave Hermione a remorseful look and shrug, watching her nod in understanding and sympathy before making her way out into the hall. Glancing up at the tall black-clad professor, looking for some clue as to what this discussion was to be about (and finding not a single give-away sign), he strode into the adjacent office, pausing before the teacher's desk. My father's desk, he reminded himself, still coming to grips with everything.  
  
Snape entered a moment later, trailed by the hem of his voluminous black robes, but did not move to sit in his chair behind his desk, taking one instead before it, and gesturing for Julius to take its twin. The older man breathed deeply, and was silent, pausing as if he could not find the right words to begin. He reminded himself that this was obviously going to be hard on the both of them until… if they finally accepted their relationship for what it was, and if more deeply-held feelings grew.  
  
"I know what you were told last night must have been difficult to hear," Snape began deliberately. "There are so many things that we do not know about each other, that we may not like about each other, that we may even hate."  
  
Julius sat quietly, listening intently to the man before him, watching the way his father played with his fingers while he talked, as if the older man felt just as nervous as he did about this whole situation. And why shouldn't he? Had the professor known that his son was about to show up in his life again so suddenly? A part of him felt sorry for the potions master who was clearly not accustomed to showing his emotions, forced into doing so by a chain of unexpected circumstances.  
  
"Is there anything you want to ask me? Anything at all?" his father asked quietly, shady eyes lifting to gaze up towards the boy before him.  
  
Julius thought a moment to himself. There was so much he already had to digest and he didn't know if he could handle anything more at the moment. "I think, in time, there will be many questions, sir," he began hesitantly, "but right now…my head is still spinning from last night."  
  
Snape nodded quietly, glancing back down to his long fingers. He did not dismiss the boy, clearly wanting to communicate something else, but to Julius, seemed unable to do so.  
  
"Is there anything you want to ask me?" Julius offered, not really wanting the conversation to end so quickly.  
  
Severus's lips turned upwards slightly at the corners as his eyes lifted once more. "Yes," he said quietly. "Where did you learn that Quidditch feint that I saw you use in your last game against Miss Weasley?"  
  
Julius couldn't help but smile, some of the nervousness suddenly erased as the conversation moved onto a subject that he could manage. They talked for at least an hour on the subject, and Julius found that his father was quite knowledgeable about the game, though he had never played himself.   
  
After such a light-hearted discussion, Snape was quite sorry to have it end, but unfortunately, there were more pressing matters at hand. "There is something else, actually, that needs to be spoken of, Julius," the potions master revealed. "The true reason for me asking you to stay after class."  
  
Julius raised a dark brow at his father's suddenly anxious demeanor, and nodded quietly, listening.  
  
Unable to put it off any longer, the older man sighed, staring at the tile floor once more. "You told me last night that Draco Malfoy was the one who told you that I was your father."  
  
"Yes, sir," Julius whispered.  
  
"I have known Mr. Malfoy's family for a number of years, since before you were born, in fact," Snape continued, his voice soft and velvety as he spoke, the harsh edge that he infused it with in front of his students gone. "Draco's father was -- is -- in the service of the Dark Lord. He is a Death Eater, like I myself once was, and as far as they think, still am."  
  
Julius stared at his father, and it took him several moments to realise he wasn't breathing. When he finally did take a breath, it was a ragged and shaking intake of air. "If Malfoy tells--"  
  
Severus glanced up at his son, his dark eyes filled with pain (and fear?). "Draco sent an owl to his father three days ago with the news. Lucius will know probably within this week, and then…" the old man shook his head slowly, taking a deep shuddering breath, his head falling between his hands.  
  
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. 


	22. Heartbreak and Horror

Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist belong to JK Rowling. I am just having fun.  
  
Chapter 22 - Heartbreak and Horror  
  
The fourth day after Malfoy sent his owl dawned crisp and clear with only a few high clouds marring the morning sky, the pure white snow blanketing the sleepy world below giving a false impression of peace and tranquillity. Julius, however, had barely slept at all, and softly cursed as the pink and orange hues of daybreak gradually lightened the absolute blackness of the dorm room into a thousand shades of grey.   
  
He turned over onto his right side, clenching his eyes shut against the advancing light of day, silently wishing he had remembered to pull the drapes about his bed but too lazy to expend the energy to do so at the present. Nightmares had plagued the few restless hours of sleep he was able to achieve, filling them with dark, shadowy images of torture and screams at the hands of a man whose face he could not see, and just as he was about to fall once again into the realm of slumber, Michael Corner's alarm clock went off with a loud buzz.  
  
All five boys now groaned as Corner's arm lashed out in the direction of the clock, trying desperately to find the snooze button. On the fifth attempt he finally succeeded in silencing the annoying sound, but it was too late for Julius to lapse back into sleep as four boys began to rustle around the dorm room, changing into their clothes for breakfast.   
  
Julius grumbled testily, reaching for his pillow and placing it over his head, smothering himself in an attempt to drown out the clunking trunk lids and talking going on around him. Someone passed by and nudged his prone form, and a voice infiltrated his pillow muffler telling him to get up, there were Quidditch plays to go over before the game. Bradley, he thought with a frown, was he ever going to let it rest?  
  
When Julius finally made it down to the Great Hall (and he was still so tired he couldn't even remember half the journey there), most of the Ravenclaw students had already finished their breakfast, and were talking animatedly about the upcoming hours against Slytherin. Bradley was in a hurry to get his team down to the pitch, and gave Julius a meaningful look as the dark-haired boy sat down at the table.   
  
"Hope you plan on waking up before game time, DeVere. We can't afford to lose this one," he said, as the others looked over the boy's bedraggled state, whispering amongst themselves.  
  
"Yeah, no problem, Bradley," Julius replied with a yawn. "After going over all those plays in the hall, in the common room, in the courtyard and in the loo, we should be able to beat Slytherin in our sleep."  
  
Bradley frowned slightly and continued his pep speech to those gathered around him paying no further attention to the late-comer.   
  
Julius had just speared a piece of cold toast with the end of his fork when a set of hands placed themselves over his eyes, blinding him. He paused for a moment, and leaving the fork standing up in the slice of bread, lifted his hands to cover the ones covering his eyes, grasping them softly as he drew them away from his face.   
  
He sighed softly, dreading this moment. He had been up half the night battling with his heart, knowing he cared too much about Hermione to drag her into this whole sordid affair with the Dark Lord. Turning in his seat, he gave the girl standing before him a half smile, "Hello, Hermione."  
  
"Morning, Julius," she replied with that smile she shared only with him. "Ready to give Slytherin hell?"  
  
"Yeah," he answered quietly, his eyes looking down at the hands he was holding warmly in his own. It was now or never, he thought to himself as he slowly stood, casting a cheerless, swarthy gaze up into her beautiful eyes.   
  
"Julius," Hermione began, her brows furrowing in concern, "is something wrong?"  
  
"Hermione," he replied softly, rising slowly from his seat at the table, "could I talk to you out in the hall?"  
  
"Sure," she answered shakily, her breakfast suddenly churning within her stomach, making her nauseous.   
  
Julius led the Gryffindor into the large foyer outside the Great Hall, his eyes remaining upon the floor tiles ahead of him, and paused before the same windows where Professor Snape had stood on the day he gave permission for the use of the Potions classroom. Slowly, he lifted his dark eyes to look with a deep remorsefulness upon the girl he loved standing before him.   
  
Bradley was just beginning to gather his troops a few minutes later when Julius re-entered the Hall and brushed by him, pausing only long enough to say, "I'll meet you guys down at the pitch." Without a single glance back he strode to the rear of the hall and disappeared out a doorway, taking a less travelled route to the stadium.  
  
"Glad to see you finally have your priorities sorted out," Bradley called to him before he vanished from sight. Turning back to his team-mates, he caught a brief glimpse of Hermione Granger entering the Hall with tear-strained eyes, moving towards the Gryffindor table.  
  
Julius was half-way to the pitch, his face set in an expression of misery, when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind him. A moment later, a hand grasped his shoulder, spinning him around unexpectedly.  
  
"What did you say to her?" Ron asked heatedly, his ears turning a definite shade of red as he stood before Julius, brown eyes darkening.  
  
"Ron," Julius began depressedly, "Now is really not a good time." He kept his eyes upon the ground, unable to look at anyone, and turned to continue on his way.  
  
"Don't walk away," Ron replied, grasping Julius's arm, causing the boy to turn to glance at him, dark eyes smouldering. "Hermione is in the Hall crying her eyes out ," he said, pointing back towards the castle, "and she won't tell us what happened. Now I saw you take her out into the foyer and I want to know what you said to her!"  
  
Julius considered the boy before him, couldn't he see how much he was hurting, having to tell someone he cared about that he couldn't see her anymore? "This is between Hermione and me, Ron. I'm sorry."  
  
"No, this is between you and me, DeVere," Ron returned, frowning deeply. "You know, I thought you were a really great guy, and I was happy for Hermione, glad she found someone who made her smile. But now I think a part of me is glad that you are out of the picture, cause you obviously don't deserve her. Go on, go down to your Quidditch pitch, as that is apparently more important to you than your friends. Just wonder if you will still feel that way when you find you don't have any friends left." And with that, Ron Weasley turned his back upon the Ravenclaw and made his way purposefully back towards the castle without looking back.  
  
Julius watched him go, his heart feeling heavier than it had ever felt in his life. He had not wanted to hurt Hermione, only to protect her from what dangers could come. Everything was happening so fast, there were so many unknowns in his life right now.   
  
Professor Dumbledore made his way quietly through the stands, finding a seat next to the dark-clad potions master, slowly lowering his aging frame onto the bench. When he was settled, he asked, "How did it go with Julius?"  
  
"As well as it could go, Headmaster," Snape returned, and then suddenly stood with a monstrous frown, yelling at one of the Slytherin replacement Beaters as he hit one of the balls out of the stadium, "That's the Quaffle, not a Bludger you dunderhead!"  
  
"Interesting playing strategies your team has, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "Where are Mr. Malfoy and his friends? Ah, yes, there they are down below."  
  
Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in the lower stands as they were still banned from playing, the two toadies moaning and screaming at the copious mistakes being made by the stand-ins. Draco was sitting dejectedly with his arms crossed, a frown upon his face as he watched the game in sullen silence, wishing Julius DeVere would pass by a little closer so he could kick his broom out from under him. It was all his fault, Malfoy thought, fuming, if Slytherin lost this game.  
  
The new broomstick had definitely made a difference in the boy's game. He was much more easily able to swoop in a steal the Quaffle from one of the Slytherin Chasers or dodge a Bludger. On the outside, Severus Snape groaned with each pass of the Quaffle through the Slytherin hoops, but inwardly, he couldn't help but feel proud one particular Ravenclaw Chaser.  
  
The game ended within three hours with Ravenclaw claiming the win, and Bradley and Julius were carried high on the shoulders of their house-mates towards the castle. Julius however, glancing about, felt the win to be empty without his Gryffindor friends to share it with. Apparently, they hadn't even come to the game, staying instead with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room.   
  
Julius's heart ached as he thought of Harry and Ron drying Hermione's tears themselves. Missing her tender hugs and warm sunny smiles already. When the Ravenclaw students finally lowered him to the floor of the common room, they were quite surprised when he climbed the stairs to his dorm and did not come down the rest of the night.  
  
Snape found it hard to hide his smile as he watched his son being carried in victory, and that vision stayed with him as he made his way down into the cool dark dungeons towards his office. Once in those quiet halls, he was able to openly grin, but it was soon wiped away as he neared the door to the Potions area. The potions master stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes took in the tall, slender figure of a man with long blond hair leaning against the wall just outside the office door, inspecting his fingernails.  
  
Noting the sudden cease of echoing footsteps, Lucius Malfoy turned his head, and offered a too friendly smile full of hidden malice as he straightened, standing before the potion's professor. "Ah, Severus. I see you have remembered your wards this time."  
  
A/N: Now THIS is a cliff-hanger! You know I just HAD to do it. : )  
  
Perhaps I should have warned you all in the very beginning that I am a bit of a sadist. I love torturing my readers. Muhahahahaha!  
  
But don't worry, this is the last cliff-hanger…I promise. 


	23. Secrets Revealed

Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist are the property of JK Rowling. I am just torturing the characters for my own amusement and generally making a mess of things.  
  
Chapter 23 - Secrets Revealed  
  
Severus Snape's heart had stopped as did his breathing. The horror of the nightmare hitting him full force as he stared at the blond man before him for what seemed an eternity. It was in truth the barest of moments, however, and he quickly regained his composure, his lips forming a deep intimidating frown as he strode purposefully towards his office door, brushing rudely by Lucius Malfoy, undoing the wards and stepping within. "For someone who is on the run from the Ministry of Magic, you have developed a regular habit of showing up at the same place more than once. What do you want this time, Lucius? Returning my book, I hope?"  
  
Lucius Malfoy followed the potions master into the chilly confines of his office pushing upon the door to close it, but not hard enough as it remained open a crack. He had a smug smile upon his face as he approached the black-clad professor, a subtle pompousness to his gait. "Oh, I think you know exactly why I am here, Severus. Did you really think you could keep this little secret forever?"  
  
Julius lay upon his bed staring up at the ceiling as he had for the past several hours, only closing his eyes to feign sleep when the celebration had at last come to an end, his dorm-mates taking to their own beds. It was not long after that the four other boys were lost in the simple dream-filled slumber of their simple lives. Julius envied them that peacefulness, wishing he could go back to the days of his euphoric ignorance. He sighed slightly, lifting his head to glance at Corner's alarm clock across the room. One o'clock. With a frown he rose, unable to lie there any longer and slid from his bed, leaving the dorm and making his way across the darkened common room and down the stairwell.   
  
His heart was aching and he was so angry at his father for his past improprieties which had brought all of this misery upon the both of them. As he passed the stairwell that led to the Gryffindor rooms, he paused for a moment, wondering if Hermione was asleep, or if she was lying awake as he had been. A good part of him wished he hadn't told her that he could not see her anymore, that he hadn't lied about not caring about her. Nothing could have been further from the truth; he knew in his heart that she was the only one for him.  
  
With one last glance up the stairs, he continued on his journey, and turned down the stairwell that would lead towards the dungeon. He needed to talk to his father, and hoped the professor was still awake.   
  
As Julius strode quietly down the corridor, he noted a sliver of light radiating from the potions master's office and his heart lifted slightly, his pace increasing. But once he neared the door, he heard voices from within that made him pause. Peering through the slight crack in the open doorway, he spied his father talking to a tall blond-haired wizard, and their conversation did not appear pleasant. He knew he should not listen, that he should return to his dorm, but Julius was unable to pull himself away, some inner part of him wanting to look upon his enemy.  
  
"Oh yes, Draco told me all about your son, Severus," Lucius Malfoy sneered, moving slightly to his right, which afforded Julius a glance of the wizard's face. "He was surprised it took him so long, as apparently the boy resembles you quite well. The Dark Lord is not going to respond with much pleasantness when he finds out the boy is alive, I am sure."  
  
Professor Snape was standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed before him as he spoke to Malfoy, his shadowy eyes smouldering with contempt. "And I suppose you are going to be the one to tell him, Lucius?"  
  
Julius swallowed hard as he listened, leaning further against the space between the door and its frame. A little too far in, as he pushed the door slightly, causing it to groan slightly upon its hinges.  
  
Lucius's eyes darted towards the door, hearing the sound, and took a few steps to block the view of the partially open door from Snape who apparently had not heard. An infernal smile, so similar to his son's spread across his pale lips, his grey eyes flickering with malice as he slid his wand slowly from his robes, keeping it hidden from the man across from him. "Of course. There is no question to where my loyalty lies… Professor. I expect to be richly rewarded for this little tidbit of information." Taking another nonchalant step towards the door, he added, "Now you, however… I cannot even to begin to imagine your reception when He calls you to Him."  
  
"Honestly, Malfoy," Snape responded as he stepped towards his desk, his voice extremely even-toned, ice cold, "I cannot understand why you are wasting your time here, when you obviously have so much back-stabbing on your agenda for tonight. I thought our friendship meant something."  
  
"Back-stabbing? No, No, my dear Severus. I am just the Dark Lord's servant, the bearer of ill tidings," Lucius Malfoy returned, "I believe back-stabbing is what you did to Him when you failed in the simplistic task of dispatching those annoying Potters and ran to save your own family instead. And as far as our friendship goes, I cannot believe you were actually so easily deceived. Our 'friendship' was never more than the Dark Lord telling me to keep a close eye on you."  
  
Snape frowned at this. He should have known. His temper flaring, he turned his dark eyes to the other man, his voice becoming even more chill. "Tell me, Malfoy, did the Dark Lord think you so loyal when you told the Ministry you were under the influence of the Imperius Curse and did not act of your own volition?"  
  
Lucius scowled at the potions professor and strode quietly towards the door, keeping out of sight of whoever might be on the other side. Grasping the knob, he pulled the door open quickly, and reached for the surprised student, grasping him by the front of his robes and pulling him inside. "Well, well… what do we have here?" Malfoy grinned menacingly, his arm holding the boy in a headlock, his wand pointing towards the student's throat. "Hmmm… let's see. Black hair, dark eyes, tall, thin build… Julius, I presume?"  
  
Severus Snape paled as Lucius pulled the boy with him, further into the room, showing his son's face to him. His nebulous eyes flared with a mixture of anger and fear. What had Julius been thinking? What was he doing here? "Let him go, Malfoy," Snape growled, reaching towards an inside pocket of his robs for his wand.  
  
"I wouldn't make any rash moves if I were you, Severus," Lucius replied with a diabolical smile dancing upon his lips. He squeezed the boy's neck tighter, causing Julius to wince in pain, and held his wand threateningly under his chin. "All it takes is a little flick of my wand."  
  
Julius gasped for breath as he lifted his eyes fearfully to his father, his stomach churning with the knowledge that if something happened to the potions professor, it was going to be all his fault for getting in the way.  
  
"An even better prize than mere words for the Dark Lord!" Malfoy exclaimed triumphantly. "What better punishment could there possibly be for your father, Julius, than for the Dark Lord to torture you right in front of his eyes."  
  
"Leave the boy, Lucius," Severus commanded as he approached them aggressively, his dark eyes smouldering with anger, feeling so helpless, and wanting only to protect his son. "He hasn't done anything to deserve this. He is innocent. It is me that you should be pointing that wand at, not him."  
  
Lucius merely smirked slyly at the advancing man, jabbing the wand hard into the boy's neck, convincing the professor to remain where he was. "Ah, but Severus, he has. He lived, when he shouldn't have." Casting that stormy grey gaze down upon the boy whose head he held like a vise, he asked maliciously, "So where is your beloved mother, Boy? Is she hiding in this castle as well?"  
  
"Alessandre is dead, Lucius, sorry to disappoint you," Snape answered for him, his mouth a fierce set line. His dark gaze moved between the Death Eater and his son.  
  
"Pity, isn't it, Severus. Such a beautiful young woman. I can't blame you for mourning her," Malfoy retorted sarcastically, moving slowly, backing up towards the doorway. "Shame you two had so little time together."  
  
The potions master's face flushed red at the blond wizard's comment and he strode a few steps forward, reaching for his wand.  
  
"Ah, ah, Severus," Malfoy warned, jabbing Julius hard enough to make him cry out from pain and fear. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."  
  
But while Malfoy was distracted, Julius, furious with himself for crying out, reached up and grabbed Lucius's wand in his hand, quickly and violently moving it away from his face, the sudden force of the movement snapping the wand in half. He wasn't going to allow this man hurt his father, not if he could help it.  
  
"Dratted boy!" Malfoy yelled furiously, fighting with the now straining Julius, reaching for the boy's pocket.  
  
Snape had his wand drawn out mere seconds later, and just as Lucius acquired Julius's wand, shouted, "Expelliarmus!" disarming the wizard and sending the ebony wand flying across the room.  
  
Julius pulled free of the Death Eater's grasp and ran to retrieve his wand from the floor, and watched as his father moved across the room towards the blond man.  
  
Malfoy froze before the advancing Severus Snape, the potions master's wand pointed directly at the man's heart, his shady eyes colder than he had ever seen them. "This is not the last you have heard from me, Severus," he threatened, and then quickly turned to run out the door.  
  
But Snape was too quick, shouting "Incarcerus!" pointing his wand towards the Death Eater's feet, causing ropes to bind his legs together, tripping him, and sending him hard to the floor. The potions professor grabbed the man's shoulder and forcefully turned the man over onto his back, glaring down upon his dark brother in crime, and shoving his wand under his chin. "Were you going somewhere?" he asked gratingly.   
  
"Such a shame she got away," Malfoy muttered bitterly, staring with utter hatred towards the black-haired man above him. "I had such a wonderful vision of her screaming her head off in those flames the day I set fire to your home."  
  
Words cannot describe the ugly change that came over the professor's face as he heard this confession, and he set his jaw, his hands trembling with uncontrolled ire as he glowered at the worm of a man beneath him. "You…" he growled, his breath coming in heated gasps that beat against the Death Eater's face as his temper ignited into a raging inferno "You are the one who set fire to my home."  
  
Malfoy sneered at the man whose family he was sent to kill, and lifted his chin, his jaw set in determination. "Yes," he said with pride.   
  
"You are the one who set fire to my home," Severus repeated terrifyingly, but then another expression quickly replaced it, echoed in the light of realisation that suddenly shone from his eyes. "You are the one who set fire to my home… the one sent to kill my family."  
  
"I believe we already covered that, yes, Severus," he replied, glancing sidelong at the professor, wondering at the change in his demeanor.   
  
Severus laughed, a horrible, triumphant laugh, as he gazed down upon the Death Eater, and jovially pronounced, "Finite Incantatum," upon the ropes that bound Lucius legs. "Go!" the potions master exclaimed, rising to stand with a defiant look upon his face. "Go tell the Dark Lord that my son lives, Lucius."  
  
Julius stared blankly at his father, wondering if the man had gone mad. Tell He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that he was alive? What was he up to?  
  
Lucius Malfoy seemed quite disconcerted as well as he slowly stood, brushing the dust of the floor off his finely tailored robes. He glanced at the potions professor, the stormy grey eyes that had shown with victory mere moments before now filled with uncertainty. He actually wanted him to tell the Dark Lord? Something was very wrong.  
  
"Well?" Severus Snape, inquired, crossing his arms before the man. "Shouldn't you be scampering off to tell your wonderful news?" He had a look in his eyes that clearly said that he was enjoying this.  
  
Lucius just stood there blankly, floored by this sudden change that had come over Snape. Suspicious, he narrowed his eyes, and asked quietly, "Why are so you keen for me to tell Him all of a sudden?"  
  
Severus Snape just smiled and let Malfoy stew for a bit before finally answering. "Surely, Lucius, you can see the dilemma it would cause for you if you told the Dark Lord about my son?"  
  
Malfoy just stared, he couldn't think of why he would not want to tell the Dark Lord anything.  
  
Snape frowned slightly, shaking his head slowly in exasperation. "Clearly, not as bright as you look," he replied, smirking at the affronted frown that stole across Malfoy's face. Continuing slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child, "Think about it, Lucius. The Dark Lord punished me for not killing the Potter family. When he finds that you failed to kill mine, do you think he will act with kindness to yours?"  
  
Malfoy looked crestfallen, and what pompousness that had been left within him vanished. He appeared to wither before Julius's eyes as the man realized just how close he had come to having his own family murdered… or worse.  
  
"I think not," Snape finished, dark eyes sparkling with malice. With a wink towards Julius, he bent to pick up Lucius's wand, the two pieces hanging together by the thin dragon heart-string that was its core. "I believe this is yours," he said to Lucius, holding it out to him.  
  
The Death Eater took it without protest, his eyes still staring blankly, wondering where he went wrong. Severus placed his arm around the man's shoulder and led him to the door, whispering, "I trust there will be no further discussion on this topic, lest I go to the Dark Lord myself."  
  
"You wouldn't…" Lucius's eyes darted quickly to the professors, horror in their grey depths.  
  
"Try me."  
  
A/N: Hope you liked the plot twist. This is my favourite chapter. 


	24. Mistakes and Making Up

Disclaimer: The characters in this story (except Julius) and the universe in which they exist are the property of JK Rowling. I am just playing with Snape's head a bit. I will use a memory charm on him when I am done!  
  
Chapter 24 - Mistakes and Making Up  
  
Julius stood silently as Professor Snape escorted Lucius Malfoy from the room and out into the hall, his head spinning from all that had just happened. He still couldn't believe that it was over.  
  
Professor Snape closed the door quietly behind Lucius and leaned against it, closing his eyes, a large weight lifted from his chest, his right hand reaching up to rub the inner corners of his eyes in relief. After a few minutes he stepped further into the classroom, suddenly remembering the presence of another. He turned his attention towards the tall boy across from him, concern in his shadowy eyes. "Are you alright?"  
  
Julius nodded silently, too afraid to utter a sound lest he wake up from this pleasant dream to discover the nightmare still in play.   
  
"That was very brave, what you just did, standing up to Lucius like that. I have known many wizards who would have stood there, helpless, and let him walk all over them," Snape confided with welling pride, offering his son a slight smile.  
  
"What happens now?" Julius inquired, his own dark eyes glancing imploringly at his father, looking for some glimmer of hope.  
  
Severus sighed and approached the boy, weariness finally setting in after so much excitement. "You mean with Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
Julius nodded, and glanced down to his hand, realising he still held his wand tightly within his grip. Carefully, he slipped it back into his pocket.  
  
"Lucius will not speak out; he cares too much for his family," Snape began, making his way towards his desk. "I am sure he is telling Draco to hold his tongue right now. You will have nothing to worry about from him, I think."  
  
"So that is it then?" Julius replied wide-eyed. Were all of their troubles over?  
  
Snape gave a dark half-laugh at the boy's question, and shook his head slowly. "No. The Dark Lord has other spies, Julius. Our secret must remain just that… a secret." He looked appraisingly over towards his son, seeing so much of himself in him now, though through subtle nuances of behaviour he still saw his wife. How could he have ever let this boy out of his life? "Why were you outside my office door at this time of night?"  
  
Julius had forgotten all about his other problems, and his father's question brought back the heartache that had temporarily vanished in light of other circumstances. "I… I needed to talk to you. I needed your advice."  
  
The professor lifted his chin and his eyebrow at the boy's admission, and spoke softly, "You would ask the advice of a failure who made so many misjudgements in his life?"  
  
Julius took a step forward, gazing up into the older man's eyes and replied steadily, "We all make mistakes, sir."  
  
"What about?" the potions master replied, gazing back curiously, wondering when his son had become so wise.  
  
"I told Hermione that we couldn't see each other any longer," Julius began, allowing his gaze to drift to the floor.   
  
Professor Snape narrowed his eyes slightly. He had been sure the boy cared quite deeply for the girl, know-it-all that she was, and even though he looked upon her House unfavourably, he could not deny they made a good match. "Why did you do that?" he asked gently.  
  
"I didn't want You-Know-Who to harm her if he did come after me," Julius responded. "I just wanted to protect her from all that could have gone wrong."  
  
"I see," Snape replied, approaching his son, and turning to lean against the wall beside him, his robes enfolded about him as he crossed his arms, gazing at the floor.   
  
"Did I do the right thing?" Julius queried, turning his head to glance up at the slightly taller man beside him.  
  
The potions professor thought on that question for a long moment, remembering how he handled a certain similar situation in his past. "Let me tell you something about Miss Granger, Julius, though I am sure you have probably already figured some of this out." Lifting his eyes to his son, he continued. "Miss Granger is perhaps the most clever witch I have ever had the opportunity to teach, and she has had her own run in with the Dark Lord along with her friends Mssrs. Potter and Weasley. Each time she has shown herself to be both resourceful and courageous, like the lion that symbolises her House of Gryffindor. She is a good friend to have on your side in dark times and places.   
  
"I had a friend from Gryffindor House once. Her name was Lily Evans, who eventually became Lily Potter, Mr. Potter's mother. I only wish I had taken the advice she gave to me before I joined the Death Eaters. Do you care for Miss Granger, Julius?"  
  
Julius nodded his head slowly, gazing down at his feet. "Yes, sir, very much."  
  
Snape thought as much, and leaned towards his son to whisper a bit of advice. "Then do not make the same mistakes that I have made, Julius."   
  
Julius glanced up at the man beside him at the melancholy sound of his voice. There was a sadness in his the older man's eyes that spoke of the many years of pain he had suffered for those errors in judgement. As his father spoke his next words, Julius swore there were tears forming in the corners of those lightless eyes.  
  
"Protect those you love as best you can," he whispered, "but never… never let them go."  
  
Snape straightened then, and stepped away from the wall towards his desk. "It is late, Mr. DeVere," he spoke authoritatively, donning the mask of indifference once more in an attempt to cut off his emotions. "Best if you get yourself to bed."  
  
Julius watched the professor silently for a moment, wanting more than that cold farewell, but answered quietly, "Yes, sir."   
  
Turning to the door, he strode across the room and placed his hand upon the knob to open the barrier, but something inside him made him pause. Don't make the same mistakes I did, he heard his father's words echo in his mind.  
  
He turned then, and quickly strode across the room towards the black-clad man, wrapping his arms about the potions master's waist, hugging him tightly, fiercely.  
  
The suddenness of this event took Severus Snape by surprise and the professor looked as if he did not know what he should do, part of him wanting to return the gesture and the other fearful of the contact.  
  
"I just want you to know," Julius began, whispering tearfully into the folds of the professor's robes, his arms clasped desperately about the teacher, "that I am glad and so proud that you are my father."  
  
Something broke loose inside of Snape at those words, as if the last barrier that had been hanging by a thread suddenly snapped. The potions master closed his eyes, and wrapped his own arms about the boy, holding him tightly against him, his head resting lightly upon his son's as he stood there shaking tremulously, his own tears welling within his eyes and streaking down his sallow cheeks.  
  
The next morning as Professor Snape perused the many shelves of the Hogwarts Library, he spied two students speaking quietly in a corner, a red rose held within his son's grasp, extended towards Miss Granger. He could not hear their words at first, but strode down a neighbouring aisle in time to peek through an empty space between two books. The Gryffindor had accepted the rose, and as Julius leaned in close to the girl, he whispered, "Je t'aime, Hermione."  
  
"What does that mean?" the girl whispered quietly, the light that had been missing from her eyes the last twenty-four hours sparkling once again.  
  
"I love you"  
  
The End  
  
A/N: Well, this is it. I hope you enjoyed the story!  
  
::steps up to the podium, and clears her throat, unfolding a small piece of paper:: I would like to take a moment and thank all my readers for putting up with my cliff-hangers and I would like to especially thank:  
  
AngelApple1  
  
MomsAngel  
  
HardcoreWWNut  
  
SonJanusX  
  
Vanyaria Darkshadow  
  
Sage and Snape  
  
Singukusa  
  
The Silent Planet  
  
Padfoot the Evil Elf  
  
Starinthedark11  
  
Alrasha  
  
AriannaMalfoy  
  
And all my other reviewers for your wonderful words of encouragement. They have meant more than you can know. This was my first Fanfic ever and I needed all of the encouragement I could get.   
  
(Readers… Please, please review all the fanfics you read, even if it is just a little blurb. Reviews are chicken soup for the authors' souls!!)  
  
Future plans:   
  
Prequel - I have been toying with the idea of doing a prequel to this story next, set around Snape's seventh year at Hogwarts up until he says goodbye to his wife, Alessandre.  
  
Sequel - always a possibility, I wouldn't count it out. I have left myself a pretty wide opening for one.  
  
Original Fiction - I have two original fantasy universes of my own that I have been working on for the past two years. I may write on them under FictionPress.net once I get HP out of my system.  
  
::steps down off of podium in tears, can't believe that it is over::  
  
{{Group Hug}} I love you guys!!!!  
  
Cheers!  
  
Laurie 


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